All the World's a Stage
by loveadubdub
Summary: New life, new city, new beginning...  Rachel has always had a flair for the dramatic.  Sequel to "One Sentence."
1. Senior Year

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Prologue  
SENIOR YEAR**

… … …

Senior year is supposed to be the best year of her life.

Or so Hollywood would have her believe…

But Rachel knows better and learned a long time ago that the 'best year of her life' will probably have to come sometime after high school. It's not as terrible as it used to be, but it's still not great. And while most of her classmates seem content with developing senioritis and goofing off and playing around, she knows that this year is the stepping stone to her entire future.

Surprisingly enough, she's not totally sure that she wants to go to college. It's funny, of course, because she has a 4.0, a stellar SAT score, and enough extracurriculars to fill up _ten _college applications. Still, she wants to act and sing and be a performer, and college just seems like a four year delay to her dreams. She fights with her fathers more than is probably healthy in regards to her education. They've had her groomed for the Ivies for a very long time, and she's pretty sure the check to Brown was signed the day she was born. It's not what she wants, though. She wants New York. It's what she's always wanted, and she knows she's not going to be happy anywhere else. She's pretty sure her dads know it, too, because eventually they decide to compromise with her. She can have New York. _If _she's in school. It's the best deal she's going to get, and since she doesn't have the money to support herself, she agrees.

She spends an entire weekend making a list of every school in New York and ranking them in order of her preference. She researches all the admissions requirements and makes detailed charts and graphs and calendars. She isn't entering into this lightly, and she needs to make sure that she doesn't miss any important dates or deadlines or details. Her boyfriend tells her she's crazy and tries to distract her from an admissions calendar by tickling her just under her ribs.

She tells him they need to break up.

It's kind of terrible how she does it, and he looks at her like maybe she's just punched him in the gut or something. She thinks she probably could have done it differently- a better, less _sudden _kind of way. But she's been thinking about it for weeks, and it just kind of slips out.

"I promise it's not you," she says quickly when he shrinks back and looks at her like he can't really believe this is happening. She realizes she's about to give some stupid cliché bullshit speech of _it's not you, it's me, _but it's also the truth. "Noah… I just need to focus on this right now. I've got a lot to do and think about, and I… I just can't be distracted."

They've been dating since December and have been messing around for nearly a year. That's the longest either one of them has ever been in a relationship, and she's sure she should feel worse than she actually does. She can't, though, mostly because she knows this is what has to happen. She has been working on her dreams her entire life- she knows better than to let anyone else, even someone really, really important, come between that. She has to focus.

"Are you seriously dumping me right now?"

She wants to say no. She _really _wants to say no because this is the first time in her entire life when she's actually been really, really happy. He's the best boyfriend she's ever had, and while she's learned from past experiences not to confuse lust and ideals with real love, she's been thinking for awhile that she's probably in love with him. She just hasn't said it out loud because she's afraid of what his reaction might be. Right now, he's staring at her in what looks like a mix of confusion, hurt, and anger. She can't blame him for any of those.

"Noah…" She doesn't know what to say and, not for the first time in her life, wishes she had a script to look to. "I don't _want _to…"

"Then don't."

He's staring at her, almost glaring. It's so easy for him to say, and she wishes it _was _that easy. "It's not fair to you," she says quietly, and she really doesn't _mean _to cry, but there are tears filling the corners of her eyes. "I have to focus on this right now. I just don't have _time _for anything else…"

He leaves then without saying anything else. He just walks out of her room and leaves his half-finished homework on her bed. She doesn't go after him, and she hears the front door of her house slam really loudly. She's glad that her dads aren't home because she doesn't feel like explaining that exit. She gets up and looks out her window as he storms down her driveway, gets into his truck, and nearly takes the mailbox out as he swerves onto the street.

And then she starts crying.

She finishes his homework for him and puts it in his locker Monday morning. They don't speak again for two weeks.

Finally, she gets him alone after glee one day and asks him for a ride home because her brakes are being worked on. He takes her because he's not enough of an asshole to tell her to walk, and she starts crying the second she puts her seatbelt on. She tells him she's sorry and that she doesn't want him to hate her and that she doesn't want to break up at all. She tells him there's just no other way right now because she has to give all her extra time and attention to her applications and that it's not fair to either one of them if they're together in name only. She begs him not to hate her and tells him that he's her best friend and that it doesn't have to be this difficult.

And finally, he turns the ignition off when they get to her house and drops his head onto the steering wheel. He tells her he doesn't hate her and that he understands. Then he turns his head and looks at her without sitting up. "Is this for permanent?"

And she says, "I hope not."

They start being _just friends _after that, and it's weird because they've never really been just friends. They've been associates. And then they've been friends who made out. A lot. But there's not been a lot of _just friends. _They hang out sometimes, not a ton, but they make an effort. They have to be careful, though, because there's too much history, and when they're hanging out eating pizza or walking together between classes, she usually has to forcefully remind herself not to kiss him because she pretty much always wants to.

She starts getting really busy. Between applications and auditions, she's got glee and schoolwork that's harder than ever. Life seems really difficult, but she knows better than to start slacking off now. She doesn't listen to her parents when they tell her she needs to slow down and take it easy. Instead, she starts relying on Red Bull to get her through the day, and while it may not be the healthiest diet, at least she normally stays awake.

She spends fall semester in and out of New York. Her dads take turns accompanying her on various auditions and interviews, and she freaks out for every single one of them. None of them are overly disastrous, though, and she even thinks several of them go very well. Still, she can't shake her nerves, and she has a feeling she won't until the letters start arriving.

Christmas break arrives, and she spends most of it with Noah and his sister, and it all seems too easy and too familiar. She's too used to that situation, and sometimes it's actually painful to experience it and wonder why she ever gave it up in the first place. She knows it's not the right time, though, and she knows that she has to stay strong and keep things the way they are. For right now anyway. It's not the right time. But he kisses her one night while they're watching some stupid movie on his couch. Bekah's already in bed, and Rachel kind of wishes she wasn't because it's too hard to tell Noah to stop when she wants him to keep going so badly. She lets him kiss her because she misses him too much and because she hasn't been kissed in a long time and because it feels really nice.

But then she does stop, and she tells him they can't do that. And she mostly means it.

She hears about him and other girls, and that kind of gossip never fails to make her feel sick. She knows it's nothing serious, but that doesn't make her hate it any less. She doesn't want him to be with anyone else, but logically, she knows that's unfair since she keeps telling him they can't be together. It's easier for her to just pretend that she has no idea what he's doing. She never brings it up, and obviously he never mentions it. It's easier that way- to just fake oblivion. She's pretty positive that if the subject ever actually came up, she'd end up in tears. So it's easier just to avoid it altogether.

The first school she hears from is AMDA. She's accepted, and she's happy. But she knows everyone gets into AMDA, and it's not even in her top five choices. Still, she puts the letter away in her files because she has no idea what she might need to fall back on.

Other letters start coming in. She gets into AADA, which makes her happy but doesn't thrill her. She gets rejected by Columbia, which effectively kills her parents' Ivy dreams. She gets into Tisch, which is awesome, and she jumps up and down with that one before she calls both her dads at work and screams into the phone.

She waits and waits for the most important letter, though, and starts to feel like it's never coming.

One night, she gets a phone call at 2 AM, and she can tell he's drunk the second she answers the phone. She wants to lecture him, but she can't find the energy. She just asks him what's so important that he has to wake her up, and Noah starts in on some drunk rambling that she can't keep up with. But it ends with, "I need you to be my girlfriend, Rach. Come over here, so I can kiss you." And she really wants to cry but settles for telling him to just go to bed. Then she avoids him for a week because it's easier than asking him if he remembers.

She pulls the letter out of her mailbox on a Thursday. She's too nervous to open it, so she takes it inside and lays it on the kitchen table. Then she stares at it for a full five minutes and wishes her parents were home to open it for her. Finally, though, she can't take it anymore, so she opens it.

_Dear Ms. Berry,_

_Thank you for your interest in The Juilliard School. At this time…_

Wait-listed.

Her heart breaks a little as she reads the words over and over again. She knows it's not a rejection letter, but it's not an acceptance letter, either. She should be good enough. But she's not. And it hurts way more than she's willing to admit. She wants Juilliard the most- it's her number one choice. It's the only school she can _really _see herself at, and knowing she's not good enough for it pretty much devastates her.

She doesn't call her dads. She doesn't know why, but she finds herself walking into the Puckermans' house without knocking, using her key for the first time in months. She goes upstairs and finds him coming out of the bathroom. If he's surprised to see her, he doesn't say anything. She hands him the letter without saying anything, and he reads it before looking up and offering her a little smile that doesn't actually reach his eyes. "You can still get in…"

She knew that would be his reaction, but she can't help rolling her eyes. "No one passes up _Juilliard. _I'm not getting in."

"Then fuck them, Rachel," and it's so easy for him to say. "Their loss."

He's ridiculous, of course, because her not getting into Juilliard is hardly _their _loss, but she knows what he's trying to do. And he's so sweet when he wants to be. He's trying to make her feel better, and she lets him hug her, though she's careful not to start crying. It's not the end of the world, and she knows it. It just really, really feels like it right now.

She decides on Tisch. It's not Juilliard, but it's still an amazing program. She starts getting excited about it, knowing that NYU is going to have tons of opportunities for her. Noah decides on Temple, and she gets excited about that, too, because she was almost positive he was going to end up in Chicago. He tells her a million times that Philadelphia and NYC are only eighty miles apart, and that makes her feel better about pretty much everything. She starts thinking that it's time for them to be together again, but when she goes over to his house to tell him, his sister answers the door and informs her that there's a cheerleader upstairs. Then she looks kind of devastated when Rachel doesn't want to stay and hang out. Rachel feels like a bitch for not caring.

She doesn't try mentioning it again, either.

Weeks pass, and no spots open up for her at Juilliard. She keeps holding out hope, but she stops obsessing. Instead, she focuses on preparing for NYU. She applies for housing and talks to her dads about things like meal plans and spending money and all the other details she needs to start zeroing in on. She tries to get them to take her dorm shopping, but they roll their eyes and tell her they're not buying her anything yet when she hasn't even got a room assignment.

Noah asks her to prom after they _finally _win first place at Regionals. She's a little surprised because she didn't even know he wanted to _go _to prom and also because they haven't really spoken a ton since that day she went to his house while another girl was there. They haven't totally ignored each other or anything, but they haven't been overly friendly. She knows Bekah told him she showed up, and she knows he's embarrassed on some level and has been avoiding her. So she's a little surprised when he slides up beside her at the salad bar and asks her while the rest of their team is laughing and joking across the little restaurant they've stopped at on the way home. Everyone's kind of on a post-win high, so she might blame some of it on that. But he smiles at her really genuinely and says he wants to take her to prom, so she says yes, and then they sit together the whole way home and kind of flirt without really flirting.

Santana and Brittany let her tagalong on one of their dress shopping trips, and she's thankful because she has no idea what to wear. They go to the mall, and she follows them through six stores before Brittany finally picks a dress. Rachel and Santana are still empty-handed, though, when they go to the next store, and it's crazy because Rachel's sure they've tried on close to a hundred dresses.

"So are you and Puck back together?" Santana asks the question after all three of them squeeze into one fitting room with eight different dresses. The sales lady is probably standing on the other side of the door glaring because she hasn't seemed too happy with them from the moment they walked in the door.

Rachel lets Brittany zip her up into yet another dress that was pretty on the rack and looks terrible in execution. "We're just friends."

"You've been saying that since September."

"It's been _true _since September." She really can't understand what's so difficult to understand, but Santana can't seem to grasp the concept.

"But you guys are still fucking."

"No, we're not!" She reaches around and tugs the zipper down, letting the dress fall to the floor before she steps out of it and then picks it up to fashion it back onto the hanger.

"Well, he's fucking like half the Cheerios." Santana says this completely nonchalantly as she turns around to look at the rear view of her current dress. "My ass looks really good in this dress." Rachel kind of wants to claw her eyeballs out.

"Thanks, Santana," she snaps hatefully, tugging another dress up. "Like I didn't know that."

"Well, you wouldn't sound so fucking bitter if you didn't give a shit."

"Of course I give a shit!" And then she lowers her voice because she imagines the mean sales lady glaring at them through the slats of the white wooden door. "But there's not a ton I can do about it, is there?"

"Um, you could like _tell _him?" Santana rolls her eyes before going right back to staring at her own ass.

Rachel thinks life would be so much easier if people could just _tell _other people everything they felt without having to worry about the consequences. But that's not reality. The reality is that he's sleeping with people who are definitely not her, and she doesn't know how to tell him to stop when she's the one who pushed him to do it in the first place.

When Brittany leaves to go hang up some of the already-rejected dresses, though, Rachel asks something she's been afraid to consider up until that point. She knows to be careful where Santana's concerned because even though they're pretty much friends… She's still Santana.

"You haven't…" She can't make herself finish the sentence, but Santana must be a mind-reader because she understands anyway.

"Oh, fuck no," she says, wrinkling her nose like it's possibly the most disgusting thing she can imagine. "That ship sailed long ago, not to mention that would break like every single rule of Girl Code."

Rachel doesn't know whether to be more surprised by the fact that Santana has apparently moved on completely or by the fact that Santana considers her important enough to call on Girl Code. After all, it's not something she generally seems to care much about, considering the fact that she'll sleep with pretty much anyone's boyfriend if she gets the urge.

"Look," Santana says, taking it upon herself to zip Rachel up into the last dress. "If you want him, take him. I'm pretty sure he's not going to turn you down."

Rachel's pretty sure, too, but that doesn't mean she's going to do anything about it.

Prom is fun and pretty much exactly like she always imagined it would be. She loves getting dressed up loves posing for pictures even though she knows he hates it. He does it anyway, partly for her and partly for his mom. They have dinner with a few of their friends, and then they head to the hotel where the dance is being held. It's loud and decorated in dark silver and gold, and it's all really pretty and kind of perfect. They dance and laugh, and it almost feels like they never really broke up because he holds her hand the whole night and pulls her into his lap every time they go to sit down.

By the end of the night, he's pressing kisses behind her ear, and she's not in any sort of mood to go to the after-party that's been planned at Brittany's house. Instead, she goes fully clichéd and asks him if he wants to get a room. She doesn't have to ask twice before he's pulling her out of the ballroom and toward the lobby to book a room. And when they're waiting on the elevator and can hear Quinn's name being announced as prom queen, she grabs him and kisses him like they never actually broke up. They make out pretty much the whole elevator ride up to their floor, and then he has a hard time making the key card work because he keeps getting distracted by her lips. He's cussing and bitching and ready to break the card by the time she grabs it from him and slips it into the lock effortlessly.

After that, there's not really a lot of talking. There's no need really because she just _wants _him, and she thinks he must feel the same way because that dress she spent hours picking out ends up as a wadded mess in the corner within minutes. There's a little talking- he's whispering things to her that she doesn't really hear. And she thinks she might tell him to hurry when he's taking too long with the preshow. At one point, she thinks again about how cliché it all is- the hotel room after prom and the hurried, messy sex that goes with it. But it feels like so much more than that that she can't really let herself feel that way. It's not even that she hasn't had sex with or even _kissed _anyone else in a year and a half… It's just that she feels like all of this is exactly how it's supposed to be.

They make up for lost time, and they don't get much sleep at all. Sometime around one in the morning, both of their phones start blowing up. They try to ignore them, but it gets pretty impossible, and finally he grabs her phone and barks, "Fuck _off, _Santana," into it before turning it all the way and throwing it halfway across the room. It might occur to her to be mad at him if he wasn't currently kissing a circle around her bellybutton.

It's almost 6 AM when they both seem to simultaneously agree on the need for sleep. Checkout's at 11, and he's already asked her if she wants to stay another day. He's got both of his arms around her waist and has her pulled right up against him just like he used to when they were together and happy. She's got her face in his neck, and his nose is in her hair. They're both still naked, and it feels strangely like the first real adult moment she's had since she's been eighteen.

"Noah, I'm still in love with you…"

She mumbles the words into his neck, floating somewhere between awake and asleep, and she wonders if he's even awake to hear them. She says _still _in love despite the fact that she's never said it before. She's not sure why, other than the fact that she's sure he had to know already.

He doesn't say anything back, just kind of nods into her hair and tightens his arms around her waist.

When she wakes up, she hears the shower running, and the digital clock on the bedside reads 10:13. It's a good thing they don't have to pack or anything because they're certainly cutting it close. She pushes the covers away and starts looking for her underwear. It occurs to her that she's about to have the first 'walk of shame' of her life, and that everyone is going to know exactly what they've been up to when they exit the hotel in the prom attire. She needs a toothbrush and a shower, but she doesn't think she's going to get either. She settles instead of a stick of gum she finds in a pack that's fallen out of Noah's pants pocket. When she looks in the mirror, though, she actually cringes. Her hair is a knotted, matted mess. Her makeup is smeared all over her face. There are bruises and red marks all over her body that weren't there the day before. Even her nail polish is chipped, and she has no idea how that happened. So much for forty dollar manicures…

She finds her underwear and starts trying to brush out her hair so that she can at least pull it into a ponytail or something. The makeup comes off easily enough with a wet wipe she has stored in her purse, but there's not much she can do about the rest. Instead, she just pulls her dress back over her head and picks her phone up from its place on the floor where Noah threw it the night before. She turns it back on and is met immediately with the voicemail notification and twelve new text messages. She flips through them, seeing that each and every one is from Santana. The earliest are questions of where are they and why isn't she there to help make fun of Quinn and her new tiara. Then there are more about Quinn and how she looks like a "hot damn mess of slut." Then there are more asking where she is and why she isn't at Brittany's. The voicemail, though, is anything but pleasant.

"_Hey, fuck you both. I was worried you were like fucking dead or date raped or something! Next time you decide to disappear, you might want to fucking tell someone or something. And tell your fucking boyfriend that the next time he hangs up on me, I'll cut his fucking dick off and feed it to him. Asshole!"_

Rachel sighs softly and snaps her phone shut at the same time she hears the bathroom door open. She looks over at Noah who is in a towel and obviously in search of his own clothes. "Santana said to tell you that if you ever hang up on her again, she's going to make you eat your own penis," she says listlessly, and he looks at her for a second before rolling his eyes. He puts his pants on and then grabs his own phone, scrolling through his own texts and rolling his eyes even more.

"What did she say?" Rachel asks, moving on her knees to try to get a look at his phone as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"She's just being a dumb bitch," he says, typing out a quick reply that Rachel barely glimpses but sees is full of profanities and name-calling. But then he snaps his phone shut and drops it onto the bed before turning his head and smiling at her for a second before he moves in to kiss her. She can tell he's employed the same gum breath-freshening technique as she has, but she's not sure she'd care either way.

She is aware that she's not been drinking in any capacity and that he, too, has been completely sober. She remembers specifically every detail of the night before, including the part where she told him she loved him. She thinks it should probably freak her out a little, but it doesn't. If anything, it makes kissing him and feeling his hand in her ponytail even more perfect.

"Are we back together?" she asks against his lips when she finally gets control of her throat. She needs to know, and she loves the way it feels when he nods, forehead to forehead.

She no longer cares about the cliché.

They end up losing Nationals. Actually, they don't even come close. They place fourteenth out of thirty, and Mr. Schue tries to make it sound better by telling them they're in the top half. Rachel feels miserable afterwards and hates the fact that, just like Juilliard, she's not good enough for this, either. Everyone is upset, but it doesn't stop the whole group from running out to enjoy what Miami nightlife they can get their barely legal hands into. Rachel chooses not to participate, citing a headache for her reasons of staying her hotel room.

Noah shows up with a bottle of off-brand whiskey, and he gets her drunk and makes her forget. And she kind of loves him for it because he keeps telling her that choir competitions are 'always fixed anyway' and 'fuck them dumbasses.' And then Britt and Santana come back, and the four of them have an illegal slumber that ends up with Brittany doing a naked handstand against the hotel's eighth story window and the rest of them practically crying from laughing so much.

Graduation comes and goes, and lots of people cry and act like the world's ending, but Rachel doesn't really feel sad at all. If anything, she sort of feels free and like she's finally able to move onto her real life. The life she was always supposed to have but that had somehow been delayed for the past eighteen years. She does all the things graduating seniors are supposed to do- the lock-in, the parties, the good-bye dinners, but she doesn't feel sentimental at any of it.

She spends the summer doing exactly what she did last summer. She continues her voice and dance lessons. She hangs out with Brittany and Santana and spends many days by their pools. She takes Bekah shopping and to the movies. She spends most nights with Noah, and sometimes they go out but they mostly stay in. It's all really normal. But it goes too quickly, and before she knows it, it's August and Brittany is boarding a plane to Los Angeles while Santana is packing up her brand new Range Rover for Notre Dame. And that's the first time she feels really sad because whether any of them will admit it or not, they're her friends and they're probably the first (and only) real girlfriends she's ever had. She's become sort of dependant on them, and it scares her to know that she's going to live with three girls she's never met and who may all hate her, while the only girls she likes are hundreds and thousands of miles away.

It's worse, though, when she wakes up one morning and suddenly realizes she's leaving the next day. Of course, that's an exaggeration. She's been mentally counting down the days all summer, but it seems very sudden and out of the blue when she realizes it's her last day in Lima. She spends most of it with her dads who take her shopping to buy all the last minute things she's suddenly decided she needed. They take her out to her favorite restaurant and help her recheck her suitcases to make sure everything is packed and ready. She feels homesick the entire day, and she hasn't even gone anywhere yet.

She leaves her house around nine, telling her dads goodnight before she leaves. They don't tell her to be home by curfew because they all know it's not going to happen anyway. They know she'll be home in time to leave in the morning, and that's about all they can hope for. She spends that night curled up in her boyfriend's bed, crying and wondering why she wasted nearly an entire school year not being with him when she doesn't even want to think about moving at the moment. He tries to be a little less dramatic and tells her that it's going to be fine and that he'll see her in two weeks. And she knows that's true because they've already sketched out a weekend visiting schedule that she hopes he doesn't suddenly decide to drop because it's too much trouble. She's worried about a lot of things that might be waiting for her in her new New York life, but she's worried about that the most.

She wakes him up early the next morning because she has to leave. He gets a little clingier and has a hard time letting her go. But eventually he does, and she runs into his mom downstairs while he goes to the bathroom. She should probably feel embarrassed, but she doesn't. She actually starts crying all over again, and his mom gives her a hug and tells her everything's going to be fine. It's not the easiest thing to believe, but she tries. Then Noah comes down and walks her out to her car, and she can't stop crying no matter how hard she tries. But he hugs her and presses her back up against her car, and even though it's chilly outside, she still feels really warm. He pushes some hair away from her face and leans down to kiss her cheek.

"Don't cry," he tells her quietly, and she feels his thumbs slide just under the back of her shirt. "You're about to be a huge star. It's happy time, right?" And he smiles some really dorky smile that makes her laugh because he hardly ever acts like that. He must take her laughter as a good sign because he leans in and kisses her tightly. She sort of just wants to melt against him, but she knows she can't.

"I need to go," she whispers, looking up at him through the still dark early-morning light. He just nods and kisses her once more. He holds onto her hand for just a little too long before he finally lets go and lets her get into her car. He shuts the door, and she feels like she might literally die at any moment.

But then she starts the car, and he knocks on the window. She rolls it down and looks at him, wondering what he's forgotten to tell her.

"Hey," he says quickly, and then he lifts one side of his mouth into a half-smile. "I love you, too."

She stares at him for a second. Then she just smiles and doesn't say anything, just rolls up the window and backs out of his driveway. She feels a little better. She feels confident for the first time that she can really do this. She can take it from here, and it's all going to be fine.

Now she knows.

… … …

A/N: Well, there's the start! College life is fun, and I love writing about it. So I'm looking forward to this story, and I hope you are, too! Thanks for reading!


	2. September

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter One**

**SEPTEMBER**

… …. …

She's been in New York for thirteen days, and she already loves it more than she ever loved _anything _about Ohio.

She's beginning to think that she should have been born here and that the fact that she ended up in Lima was really some sort of cruel joke that fate played on her to make her parents pay for some unknown crimes or something. Still, there's no point in worrying about it now. Because she's finally here, and she's never leaving. _That, _she knows for sure.

She feels a tiny bit guilty for being so happy in her new home. Her parents are probably offended that she loves being away so much and that she's managing without them so easily. It's not that, though. It's just that she really, _really _loves this city, and she can't imagine anywhere else in the world more perfect. She's been coming here her whole life, but actually _living _here is a whole other story. Knowing she doesn't have to hurry and board a plane in a week makes the city that much better.

And really, she's finding out quickly that she can be whoever she wants to be now.

It's one of the very first things she noticed after moving into her dorm. No one looks at her like she's some sort of freak who talks too much or sings too loudly or has two gay dads or dresses weirdly or used to get slushies dumped on her on a regular basis or cheated on her boyfriend with his best friend. They all just look at her like any one of the nameless hundreds of others who are showing up to this city and this school for the first time. She folds seamlessly in with the rest of the freshman class, and no one hates her on any sort of preconceived principle. If she wants to stay the same Rachel Berry, she can. If she wants to be a hipster, she can. If she wants to be dark and artsy and serious, she can. If she wants to be _Santana, _she can.

She settles for kind of a mix. She starts dressing a little differently and talking a little less obsessively, and she stores the Santana away for when she might really need it. Overall, though, she's still herself, and that means she's still one-hundred percent focused on her goals. She came here, to this city and to this school, for a purpose, and she's not going to waste one second of opportunity. So she skips the Tuesday and Thursday night parties that her roommates love attending, and she does homework instead. They don't call her a dork or anything, but maybe they just haven't been there long enough to figure it out. They're pretty focused themselves, just maybe a little less than she is because their majors aren't as competitive and cutthroat as she's already figuring out hers is.

She realizes very quickly that the old saying about big fish/little pond is very true. In Lima, she was the big fish- not in social activities or anything like that… But on a performance level, she was _it. _She's not being conceited, she's just being truthful. She is talented. More talented than anyone else in that little town ever dreamed of being actually (Jesse doesn't count because he was only there for five minutes, and those are five minutes she'd rather forget). People may hate it for her, but no one's going to deny that she's the best. And that there's probably never going to be anyone better. But in New York… It's a lot different. She's enrolled in one of the most prestigious performing arts programs in the country, and there are a _lot _of talented people here. There are a lot of people who look like they might literally stab you in the back with a rusty knife if they thought it might help them get to the next round of an audition.

So Rachel figures out quickly that she has to rely on more than just her talent here. If she wants to stay at the top, she's going to have to _work. _And if that means skipping some mid-week drinking, she's more than willing to make that sacrifice.

Besides, she's never been much of a partier anyway.

On Friday, Noah shows up for the first time, and she's not sure she's ever been more ready for anything in her life. As much as she loves this new life, there are a _few _things she misses about the old one. And he's one of those. It's only been two weeks since she last saw him, but it feels like much longer than that. They text all the time and talk a lot, but she misses him like crazy, and she's practically bouncing by the time he actually arrives. When she gets the text that he's outside her building (he _thinks), _she jumps up, doesn't lock her door, and runs down the four flights of stairs because waiting on the elevator would take too long. She finds him on the sidewalk and flies at him, literally jumping into his arms and hugging him tightly like she hasn't seen him in two _years _instead of just two weeks.

She spends that whole first weekend showing him everything she thinks is important in the city. He's never been here before, but she knows he doesn't care about the stupid touristy stuff anyway. She shows him her dorm and around her school. Then she shows him the important things- like the little bodega she found that has the _best _coffee ever and the bakery with her favorite bagels. They spend a lot of time in her room, hanging out with her roommates and then making up for lost time. She thinks it's funny that she hasn't known these girls very long at all but already trusts them enough to care about what they think. She's talked about Noah a lot, and they've seen pictures, but she was a little nervous bringing him here. She wanted him to make a good impression and is pleased that he seems to have done just that. Her actual _room_mate, Mia, is only there on Friday because it's Labor Day and she has her own boyfriend to visit, so they get the room to themselves for most of the weekend. Rachel's definitely happy about that.

On Sunday, she takes him to Times Square and makes him rush with her for a new show she's been dying to see. He tells her she's a dork, but he waits in line for two hours with her anyway. Then he asks why anyone would pay full-price for a ticket when they can get them for twenty bucks. She's too happy to do anything but laugh, even when it starts raining and completely ruins her hair. They go to the matinee, and it's his first Broadway show (and honestly, it's not that great), but he doesn't bitch the whole time or roll his eyes like she fully expects him to do.

That night, though, they're still wandering around Times Square. She's holding his hand and feeling more like a tourist than an NYU student, but she doesn't care that much because she honestly thinks this is the most magical place in the whole world, and if she knew she wouldn't get arrested, she would just set up a sleeping bag on the TKTS bleachers and live here. They're sitting on those exact bleachers when he feeds her a bite of his pretzel and leans his head over on top of hers.

"Do you feel like you can see your future here?" he asks, and it's weirdly serious and kind of catches her off-guard for a second. She turns her head to look at him just as he lifts his away. He can obviously tell that she's confused because he elaborates a little bit. "I mean, like I don't really know what I want to do, but you already know everything."

She considers his question and the explanation. Then she looks up at the Broadway advertisements that are glowing brightly against the dark night, all of them lined up, one after another, sometimes mixed in with TV shows and movies and fashion ads. And yeah, she knows what he's talking about. When she looks past him down 47th Street, she can a couple of marquees, and it makes her want everything that much more.

"Yes," she says, nodding. "I do."

"I think you were born to be here."

She grabs his hand and scoots closer. She decides that _this _is the most perfect moment of her entire life so far. Because she's exactly where she wants to be, right in the center of the universe, and because he's exactly the person she wants sitting beside her. And even though she knows he'll be gone tomorrow, she doesn't feel like he's really as far as she's been imagining.

She falls into a hectic schedule that's really enough to wear anyone down.

She hasn't been in New York for a month yet, but she's doing eighteen hours worth of classes, spending countless hours in vocal rehearsals and lessons, and trying to balance a brand new life that doesn't involve her parents being there to tell her to slow down. It feels like senior year all over again, except worse. She's never kicked the Red Bull addiction, and she's pretty sure that if someone could figure out how to put a full day's worth of necessary nutrition into a Red Bull can, she'd buy stock.

Still, though, she loves the rush. She loves the feeling of being busy and having so much to do and having all the reasons in the world to push through and be the best at everything. All of her professors are impressed with her, she can tell. But they've seen the best of the best, so it's hard for them to get too excited over anything- even over perfect pitch and perfect vocal control. She has to work harder than ever to stand out against her classmates, but she's up for the challenge.

The academic side is less challenging than the artistic side. She goes to all her classes and spends a good amount of time studying her notes, but she's never had much trouble in school. College courses aren't that much more difficult than the full load of APs she had last year. As long as she stays focused, she knows she can keep that part of her education easily afloat.

It's not long before she starts making friends. She's friends with her roommates, though she's sort of suspicious that Alexis might be a pathological liar. She asks Mia if she feels the same one day after Lexi tells them that her mother is first cousins with Michelle Obama and that she's spent the night in the White House many times during family get-togethers. Mia agrees completely, and they might ask their other roommate, too, but Jessica's got a new boyfriend and has only been seen maybe twice over the last week.

They hang out with some other girls on their floor, and Rachel starts getting to know some of the people in her program. It's cutthroat, yes, but as a freshman, she feels like there's less competition since they aren't actually allowed to audition or anything. So while she might plot privately on how to best the rest of her class, she thinks it's fairly safe to go out for coffee after class and help each other with accompaniment when they manage to snag a free practice room.

Before she knows it, it seems like her old life was just a dream.

She hasn't talked to Brittany at all. She mostly only keeps up with Santana through Facebook, but they text a few times (mostly when Santana finds out some gossip and needs to spread it). She definitely hasn't talked to anyone else from back home, though Finn emailed her once about two weeks into school and asked her how things were. She emailed him back, and that was the end of that. It gets to the point where she doesn't even talk to her parents every day, and she starts feeling less and less guilty when she (sometimes on purpose) misses their calls.

She still texts Noah, though. A lot. They still talk at least once or twice a day, but sometimes it's literally for two minutes before one of them has to run and do something else. As easily as she's finding folding into New York to be, he's loving everything about Philadelphia and the newfound freedom of college life. She worries sometimes, but she tries to tell herself she's being stupid. If she doesn't trust him then there's no point in them being together, and she knows it. So she lets him do whatever he wants to do and just keeps faith that it's nothing he would need to lie about.

The weekend visit schedule that she so meticulously planned out over the summer becomes pretty obsolete around the third week of school when they both find that alternating going back and forth every weekend just isn't plausible. Not when they have tests to study for and she has workshops to attend and he has parties to frequent. So they decide to just play it by ear, but finding time that works for both of them is difficult, and it's the last weekend of the month before she can justify a break in her studies and hop a train to Philly.

He meets her at the station with a hug and a kiss, and she wants to hold him and never let go right when she realizes just how _much _she's missed him. He drives her back to campus, and they talk to the whole time about things they've managed to miss in their marathon texting rounds and daily conversations. He checks her into his dorm, she hands over her license, and they go upstairs. She wants a tour of his campus, but he just wants to get her into bed. She doesn't protest too much, especially when he tells her that his roommate's lab will be over in twenty minutes.

It occurs to her then that it's going to be very strange, sleeping here in this little twin bed with a stranger literally feet away. It's weird, and she's not really sure she wants to do it. Of course, he had no problem sleeping with her in her dorm, but at least Mia was gone for most of the weekend. His roommate has no plans to go anywhere, and Rachel wonders how in the world she's supposed to be comfortable in that sort of situation. He distracts her from thinking about it, though, by taking her clothes off without any sort of preamble and pushing her backwards into his mattress. And she can kind of tell that all her worries have been in vain because he's way too eager to get on with it, so she knows he must be edging on desperate. His roommate must get out of class early, though, because there's no way it's been twenty minutes, and they're literally just finishing when a key slips into the door. Rachel barely has time to pull her dress back on, but the smell of sex and their rumpled appearances leave no question as to what has just transpired. She thinks she might die because this is one cliché she never wanted to be involved in.

Noah, of course, doesn't care at all and just lifts his head in acknowledgement of his roommate's sudden appearance. And he just introduces them like it's the most casual thing in the world. "This is Rachel." He runs a hand over her hair, and she wonders if it's to smooth it down some. "Rach, this is Noel."

Noah and Noel. It's like the girls down the hall who are named Ashley, Ashley, and Ashlyn. It's too confusing. She wonders who's in charge of these things. Of course, she suspects that Noel probably doesn't even know that Noah is his real name. She takes a little bit of pleasure in knowing that anyone he meets in New York will know him as Noah and will have no idea who Puck is. Then she wonders why she's thinking about any of that at all when she's being introduced to someone for the first time with sex hair and smudged lipgloss.

Noel is attractive. He's exactly the type Santana would call "pretty but not hot," but Rachel doubts he has any trouble finding girls to take home. He smiles at her, and she can't tell if he's just being friendly or if he's amused by the fact that he caught her just seconds after sex. So that's exactly when she decides to channel that little bit of Santana that she's got stored away, and she just smiles back and forces herself not to blush. Then she leans off the bed for her purse and starts combing out her hair as if everything's totally normal.

She can't tell if Noah is impressed or terrified.

It's funny that the first time she gets drunk in college, she's not even at her own school. But she ends up completely shitfaced by midnight, drunk off of a Natty Light keg that started out tasting vaguely of urine and ended up tasting like heaven in a red plastic cup. Funny how that happens.

Since she's thought about her so often that day, she finds herself needing to talk to Santana, and since she has no idea where her own phone is (she later finds it in her pocket), she makes Noah call her and grabs the phone.

"I love you," she blurts out immediately, too drunk to care that she's setting herself up for ridicule.

She doesn't get it, though. She just gets what she imagines is a slightly amused Santana telling her, "I love you, too, baby. Be careful. Don't let anyone talk you into stripping, the Internet's a bitch."

Rachel has no idea what that means, but she smiles anyway, and then Noah takes the phone and she watches a one-sided conversation that's apparently not nearly as pleasant as her own. It ends with, "Ohhh… fuck you, too, Santana. Kiss my ass," and a hang up.

Rachel gets mad five or fifteen minutes or an hour later (she's lost track of time) when she sees some blonde cheerleader looking girl flirting with Noah, and even though she's seen it plenty of times before, alcohol usually makes it worse. So she goes over and makes out with him exactly like the gross PDA skank another cheerleader warned her never to be. She doesn't care, though, because she doesn't want him looking at other girls, and she especially doesn't want him looking at other girls while she's right there in the same yard. He doesn't seem to care, though, and she lets him grope her in really inappropriate ways right out in public.

She can't really walk as they head home with his roommate and a couple of their friends. He pretty much has to carry her, but he doesn't seem all that bothered. She's very giggly the whole way, and pretty much all of his friends take to babying her a little bit. She has to slip into acting mode, though, and be as sober as possible as she leans against one of his friends (Nick?) while Noah signs her back into the dorm. The elevator makes her feel like she might puke, but Noah throws a loaf of bread at her once they're back in his room and tells her to eat up. Then he gives her some water, and it kind of tastes even better than the red plastic cup heaven.

It's three-thirty, but they turn on the TV and watch some stupid horror movie for like fifteen minutes before Noel falls asleep with an open box of Cheez-Its, and Rachel's making the educated decision to slip back into seduction mode. And if she blows him while his roommate is three feet away, it's definitely the alcohol's fault and says nothing of her character or morals. The fact that he lets her, though, might speak volumes about his own.

Sunday arrives too quickly, and he puts her back on a train to NYC just after lunchtime. They say pretty normal goodbyes. She no longer wants to cry at the thought of leaving him, but it still sucks because this weekend has been fun and very 'collegey' and exactly what her own life might be if she wasn't enrolled in a program where focus and determination are the keys to life. She kind of envies him a little bit and thinks it would probably be fun just to be a normal, undeclared college freshman. She knows better, though, and knows that fun won't get you very far when it comes to dreams too big for most people her age. So she kisses him (and then kisses him twice more), tells him she'll text him when she's home, and gets on the train that's going to take her back to her new normal.

When she gets there, all hell has broken loose in her room, and Jessica and Mia are fighting loudly over something that Rachel has no clue about. They're being very loud and very mean, and neither of them so much as glances up when she lets herself in. She looks over at Lexi who is watching the whole thing from the couch and raises her eyebrows. She hears somebody call somebody a slut, but she can't tell who said it. She doesn't want to get in the middle of it, so she just lets herself into her bedroom and closes the door.

She texts Noah to let him know she's home, and then she lies down for what should be a nice late afternoon nap. It's interrupted, of course, by the sound of her roommates screaming, but she just closes her eyes and tries not to feel as lonely as she suddenly feels. She doesn't even know where it comes from, but something's twisting in her stomach, and she hates the way it feels. Her own stupid twin bed feels much too big and empty without another person.

Her phone buzzes with a reply text, and it's short and simple. _Miss you already. _And she doesn't really mean to cry, but tears creep up in the corners of her eyes and leak out onto her pillow. It sucks.

She wants him. And she wants his life. She wants this. And she wants this life. She's beginning to think (not for the first time) that she wants too much and too badly.

For the first time ever, though, she's worried that she's not destined to have all of it.

… … …

A/N: Well, that was quick! Thanks so much for the reviews to the first chapter! This one isn't going to be as long as the last one (well, it's not _planned _to be as long, but who knows…). There will be plenty of fluff, but you all know I love my angst, too, so that will show up, too. Thanks again for reading, and please review!


	3. October

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter Two  
OCTOBER**

… … …

Things are no longer peaceful on the home front.

Rachel feels like she's living in some sort of warzone because two of her three roommates have apparently decided to hate each other with no hope of finding any sort of middle ground. To be honest, she's still not even sure exactly what the fight's about, but she's being asked to choose a side she doesn't want to choose. She wants to just stay out of the whole thing and be as diplomatic as possible. Both Mia and Jessica, though, seem to think she needs to pick one or the other and stick with it. They don't seem to realize that Lexi is running back and forth between them, probably stirring the drama up even more, while they both trust that she's got their back. Rachel doesn't want to do that, so she just avoids the whole situation as much as possible.

Instead, she tries to engage all the girls in conversations that have nothing to do with why they hate each other.

She's starting to learn a lot about her new roommates. She likes them all, on varying levels, but she doesn't really see herself ever really being BFF with any of them. Lexi is fine when she's not telling some crazy (obviously false) story. Jessica's nice, but she's probably the roommate Rachel knows the least because she has a boyfriend with an off-campus apartment, and she spends most of her time there. When she's home, she's usually fighting, so it's hard to get to know her too well. Mia's the most normal, but Rachel can tell she's a huge bitch if you get on her bad side. She's one of those people you have to be careful around, so Rachel tries to be as inoffensive as possible.

She's eating dinner with Lexi and Mia one night in mid-October, and they're all talking about the girl down their hall who's already earned the nickname "Head Doctor" and for good reason. Mia is repeating some story she heard that involved the girl sleeping on crusty sheets for two weeks without washing them, and Lexi and Rachel are both trying not to gag through their laughter. That whole topic leads to a conversation about sex, and Rachel's not all that used to it. She's never had a lot of girlfriends, and then when she finally got some… Well, she always found it awkward discussing sex with her boyfriend's ex. So she just didn't. It's easier here, though, with these girls who don't really know her whole past and who have never slept with her boyfriend. Mia's the virginal one, or so she claims, but even though she's got a boyfriend she's been dating for nearly three years, Rachel probably believes her. In some ways, she wishes she was still a virgin herself. She thinks her life would be much easier right about now.

It's been sixteen days since she last saw her boyfriend, and while she's never really thought of herself as a desperate person, she's really starting to feel it. It's a good thing she keeps herself so busy because otherwise, she thinks she might actually go crazy. It doesn't help that Lexi brings home a different guy every single weekend and seems much more relaxed than Rachel ever remembers being. It also doesn't help that not only is she not _seeing _her boyfriend, she's talking to him less and less. She doesn't think it's either of their faults really, they're just both really busy. And it's kind of easier to just not talk to him at all than to talk to him for less than a minute and then hear him tell her that he's got to go because his friends are leaving without him.

But it's not like she's jealous or anything. She just misses him. She feels lonely without him, which is silly because who feels lonely in New York City? But she does. And it's hard. And okay, yes, maybe she's a little jealous. Or maybe jealous is too harsh of a word, maybe she's just a little worried. She trusts him, but she also knows him. And that makes it sort of hard to be totally at ease when he's out four or five nights a week at parties while she's in a totally different city.

He texts her one day while she's in the middle of an anthropology lecture, and while she knows it's rude to be on her phone during class, she slips it out of her bag and reads it. He tells her that he made an A on his Western Civ exam without even studying, and she tries to decide between lecturing him for not studying and congratulating him for a good grade. She settles for telling him that she's bored and misses him. They spend the rest of the hour texting, and she doesn't even care that the professor seems to spot her at one point. She just lowers her phone further into her lap and carries right now. She asks if she can come see him that weekend, thinking that she doesn't have anything that can't wait coming up. He says _fuck yes please _in response, and she smiles to herself.

The next day, though, she's in the studio with a couple of people from her department, and they're all eavesdropping on the practice room next door where some of the upperclassmen are rehearsing for the upcoming round of auditions. They can hear what sounds like a perfectly flawless rendition of "Don't Rain on My Parade" through the wall, and Rachel hates that hearing it sends her back in time three years when she was singing it herself. She heard lots of praise for it, but the only critique she heard (that she was "flawed" and that she "lacked Barbra's emotional depth") is the only thing that's stuck with her through the years. She is confident in her talent, but she hates being reminded of her weaknesses. She hates hearing other people who are just as good as, or possibly better than, she is.

She plays the piano for a mezzo named Candis who not only spells her name stupidly but also annoyingly has the range of Cecilia Bartoli. Rachel messes up the accompaniment on purpose just to hear her stumble a little bit. She shouldn't take pleasure in things like watching other people trip over relatively simple notes, but she does. When it's her turn to take center stage (the "stage" being a dusty practice room with a slightly out of tune piano and five chairs- two of which are broken), she asks for "Don't Rain on My Parade" and does her absolute best to pump it full of emotional depth and make herself heard through the walls so that the upperclassmen next door can know in advance what is coming for them.

She's nearly positive that Candis returns the favor of messing up the accompaniment on purpose, but, of course, she has no proof.

Later, though, one of the guys in their group brings up a Saturday morning mini-workshop at CAP that's open for any students who want to attend. He says he's going, and Candis says she might. Rachel immediately confirms her own attendance, doing whatever she can to stay on top of anything and everything that's going on around her. It doesn't occur to her until that night that she already has weekend plans.

Noah is _not _happy when she tells him.

"What the fuck, Rach? You said you were coming here."

"I know. But I didn't know there was a workshop on Saturday. You know I need to go to as many as I can if I want to get my name and face out there."

It's so easy for her to understand. She can't comprehend why he just doesn't get it.

"You go to that crap every fucking weekend."

And that, of course, makes her angry, and she wastes no time letting him know. "It's not _crap, _Noah. It's my _education. _And my _future."_

"Whatever. You always say you're gonna do shit, and then you find something better and bail."

"That is a lie," she says flatly. "This is the first time I've said I was coming to visit and then had to cancel."

He doesn't seem to care about that. Instead, he just starts bringing up anything he can. "Yeah? Well, what about every other fucking weekend for the past month when you've been too busy?"

She's glad he's not within easy reach because she seriously might strangle him. "_You _haven't exactly visited me, either," she bites out. "So stop putting all of this on me."

"Whenever I suggest it, you always say you've got something going on!"

"Well, I don't want you to come all the way up here while I have to study or be working!"

She can practically hear the eye roll through the phone. "Whatever, Rachel."

"Don't tell me _whatever," _she snaps, and she knows he's fully aware that she hates that.

"Okay." 

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"That!" She feels her voice rising higher and higher. "Stop being all passive-aggressive! I hate when you do that!"

"Oh, I'm sorry you find me so intolerable."

"Stop it. It's just one weekend." She finds it ironic that she's the one attempting to tone down the dramatics.

"Right," he says sarcastically. "One weekend. And then next weekend you'll have some other stupid lecture. Then the weekend after that, you'll have some dumbass play to go to. Then the weekend after _that-"_

"Stop calling everything I do stupid!" She doesn't mean to actually shout, but she kind of thinks she just might. She hates that he puts these things down, and even though she's unwilling to admit it at the moment, it really hurts her feelings. "It's not stupid."

There are a few seconds of silence, and she thinks he might feel bad or something. But then he ruins it by slipping straight back into asshole mode. She hates that it's so easy for him to do.

"I thought having a girlfriend meant _more _sex. Not like… _none."_

And she doesn't know why she expects anything more. She knows that this is what he does whenever they fight. He tries to be as mean as possible, and she encourages it by getting so defensive. She knows she should just ignore it, but she can't stop the words that come out of her mouth.

"Don't cheat on me."

There's another moment of silence, and she imagines that he's either confused or annoyed by her statement. Then finally, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Don't cheat on me," she repeats firmly. "I know you're…" she searches for the right term, "_frustrated. _But just don't."

"Well, I wasn't planning on it, but thanks for having so much goddamn faith in me." She can hear the bitterness dripping with his words.

"Noah-"

"Whatever."

She sighs loudly. _"Noah."_

"Bye, Rachel." And then she hears the telltale click that lets her know he's just hung up on her. 

She hates herself for crying into the darkness of her room, but she's thankful that everyone else is out and not around to see.

She has a full day in the studio on Friday, and she tries her very best to focus on her lessons and on nothing else. She tries not to notice that there's a girl who is stealing every single one of chances at getting noticed by the professor. She tries not to notice the dull ache in her stomach or the pull behind her eyes that reminds her perfectly of all the tears she shed the night before.

When they break for lunch, she walks down to a corner store and buys two Red Bulls and a pack of sugar-free gum. She downs one whole can before she even makes it back to her building, and she opens the second slowly as she slides down a brick wall and sits on the absolutely filthy sidewalk below her. She's tired and kind of wishes she could just go back to her dorm and sleep for the rest of the day, but she knows that's not possible.

She doesn't know how he does it, but he seems to know the exact right moment to call. And as she's sitting there on the dirty sidewalk with twenty-nine minutes left of her lunch break, she has no excuse to ignore his call. So she answers it.

"Are you pissed at me?" he asks immediately, and she answers honestly.

"Yes."

"Don't be." And he kind of sighs, and she can tell he's tired of this, too. Still, she's too stubborn to give in that easily.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asks back, daring him to come up with a plausible answer.

And since he's physically incapable of apologizing, he says, "Because you know I didn't mean that shit."

"That doesn't mean you can just say it anyway."

This time his sigh is loud and clear. "I _know, _Rachel. Just stop being pissed."

"That's not really helping…"

"This is just _hard," _he interrupts. "Like missing you and shit. It sucks."

"I know," she says quietly, pulling her knees up and dropping her face against them to block out the breeze.

"And I really want to fucking _see _you, Rachel." He's being pretty quiet now, too, and she wonders where he is and who's around.

"Come up here next weekend." She doesn't lift her head. "I swear I'll be totally free." She has no idea what's on the calendar for next weekend, but she already knows it's getting cleared. "And Mia's going out of town."

"I love you." He's trying to make nice now, but she doesn't mind. He doesn't say it very often.

"I know." And she lifts her head, squinting up at the early afternoon sun.

She makes the first D of her life on an English paper that she spends three days writing.

She shouldn't even have to be taking this class, but her AP credit wouldn't transfer, and now she's stuck making _Ds _on bullshit assignments just because her teacher has a stick up her ass and a hate on for people with obvious intellectual superiority. And Rachel knows immediately, of course, that none of those thoughts sound like her own, but sometimes she has to draw on Santana or Noah when she's really, really angry over something.

And she _is _angry. She always thought making bad grades might upset her and make her feel badly about herself. But it doesn't. It just really, really pisses her off, and she goes back to her room cussing more than any of her roommates have ever heard her cuss. She rips the paper up in what, she can admit, is an act that's probably a little too dramatic even for her. She doesn't care, though. She bitches about it for hours until it's finally nine o'clock and Jessica asks her if she wants to go to a party. It's a Thursday, and she has to be at her studio by eight the next morning, but she doesn't care.

It's really the first party she's been to at NYU, minus a few small get-togethers that she's attended with some of her new friends. This is a real party, though. Jessica takes her to an apartment building and up to the roof, and she has no idea who lives here or how (or _if) _Jessica knows them. But she wants to get drunk. The last time she was drunk, she was in Philadelphia and that was almost a month ago. She feels like it's warranted, and she doesn't really care if this rooftop party is a little too public for a bunch of people (many, maybe _most, _of whom are underage).

She starts drinking and thinks less about her unfairly graded paper. Instead, she decides that she wants Jessica to be her new best friend, and she tells her so. And she flirts with some guy who refills her drink for her. Then she tells him she has a boyfriend the second he hands her cup back. He doesn't care, though, and she thinks he's nice, so she keeps talking to him. She isn't attracted to him, and she doesn't feel like there's any danger that she'll do something stupid. Still, a part of her feels a little smug when she thinks about it because she thinks maybe Noah should have to worry about _her _for once. She's already too tipsy to work out the details, but in her mind, it makes sense. She has no intention of doing anything inappropriate with this new boy (she honestly can't remember if his name is Dean or David…), but since she can only imagine what flirting her boyfriend does of his own, she doesn't feel guilty.

She sort of wants to call and tell him, but she has enough sense not to.

The next morning, she wakes up in her dorm with Mia snoring loudly beside her. She feels hung-over and nauseous, but that's not the part that worries her. The part that worries her is that it's far too bright in the room to be her normal wake-up time of 6:30. She grabs her phone off the nightstand and sees that it's 9:09, which means she's already an hour late for class. She tries to jump up and grab some clothes, but the sudden movement makes her stomach turn, and she barely makes it to the bathroom before she's puking up last night's dinner and all the cheap beer she poured into her body.

She knows she's not going to make it to class, so she goes back to her room, emails her professor, and then climbs into her bed. Not caring that her roommate is asleep (and thinking she needs to get up anyway), she grabs her phone.

"I suck at college!" she says the second she hears him pick up, and when Noah laughs, she gets maybe angrier than she really should. "It's not funny!"

"What happened?"

"I got a D on a paper, Noah. A _D! _That is one grade above failing, and it was completely unwarranted and prejudiced! The professor didn't agree with my stance, so she graded me on biased opinions and not on the quality of my argument or the structure of my writing!"

"Slow down, Rach… Too early for your crazy."

"Stop being mean to me."

"Oh, god. Stop pouting."

"I'm not pouting." She crosses her arms over her chest unconsciously. "Noah, this is _serious." _Her words speed up the most desperate she gets. "And then I went _out _last night when I should have been studying or rehearsing or trying to rewrite my paper or something! And I got drunk on a _Thursday."_

"I get drunk every Thursday."

She squeezes her eyes shut because sometimes he's so infuriating she can't stand it. "I overslept this morning because I was too drunk to set a fucking _alarm _last night! So I'm missing my class right now, and I puked in the toilet, Noah, it was so gross. And now my hair smells like vomit!"

He laughs again, and she mentally prepares the list of names she wants to call him. He beats her, though, and starts talking before she gets a chance to say anything.

"Baby, I'm sure your hair smells fine. And it's just one class, it's not the end of the world. And fuck that paper, dude. Who gives a shit?"

"_Noah…" _And now she's whining.

"Rach, just calm down." He's placating her, and she kind of likes it. "Enjoy your morning off. Go back to bed, and in a few hours, I'll make you forget all about that dumbass paper."

She tries not to smile, but she fails miserably. "Promise?"

"Swear." Her cheeks heat up, and she thinks it's funny that he can still make her blush.

Hours later, he's made good on his promise to make her forget about the bad grade, and they're at dinner with Lexi who is telling them about a ski trip she went on when she was ten and stayed in the same chalet as Oprah Winfrey. Rachel doesn't believe a word of it, of course, but she just nods anyway like she does. She can't tell if Noah's buying it or not, but she doubts it since she's made a point of telling him about her roommate's pathological lying.

Lexi's been bugging everyone for a week about a haunted house she wants to go to, but no one has taken her up on it yet. She must sense that Noah likes blood, though, because she brings it up, and, of course, he's all for it. Rachel isn't too excited by the prospect, and it's not because she's scared or anything… She just doesn't think those things are much fun. Still, she's not going to send her boyfriend off alone with her sluttiest roommate, so they grab a cab and give him the address. Rachel's the one who insists on the taxi because they're not exactly sure where they're going, and she refuses to get lost in an unfamiliar part of the city this late at night when it's practically freezing outside.

They find the place, and Rachel can tell immediately that she's going to hate it based simply on the fact that the line stretches halfway down the block. It's cold, and she doesn't feel like waiting, but she does anyway because Noah buys them all tickets (and she wants to bitch at him because seventy-five dollars is too much to spend on this crap, but she keeps her mouth shut). They drink hot chocolate and wait for nearly two hours, and Rachel stands around and watches Lexi fall in love with Noah.

And okay. Maybe it's not that surprising because obviously Rachel knows very well that he is attractive. She knows that he has that sort of smile that makes people forget the fact that he's mostly just an asshole. And she knows better than anyone that he can charm just about anything that moves. Still, she kind of wants to punch them both, and she suddenly really misses Santana (probably because Santana really _would _punch them both).

She stakes her claim without really staking it. She doesn't want to look jealous or desperate or anything, so she just complains that she's cold and presses her face into the front of his jacket while she slips her hands into the back pockets of his jeans. And she loves the way his arms just seem to fit so easily around her waist as he hugs her and tries to warm her up. And really, Rachel is _not _as smug as she feels.

And if she pretends to be a lot more scared than she really is when they finally make it in, it's definitely _not _just so he'll hold her hand more tightly and keep one arm safely around her stomach.

She _really _doesn't know when she turned into this girl.

... … …

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to those who are celebrating! Thanks for reading!


	4. November

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter Three  
NOVEMBER**

… … …

Rachel doesn't see him again for several weeks.

She barely has time to breathe between school and studying and rehearsals and the six different student groups she's become involved in. She stops thinking of New York as so magical and amazing because she barely gets to _see _it. If it isn't on the NYU campus or on the walk to her studio, she forgets it even exists.

And she's so _tired._

She sort of feels like her body is shutting down on her. She has to force herself out of bed every morning. She can't even _think _about the gym or yoga or anything else she's done religiously for years. It's not like she's ever had much free time, but now it seems worse than ever. She loses five pounds, which she's sure is the _opposite _of what's supposed to happen because she's never heard of the freshman _negative _fifteen. It's not really her fault, though. She's not starving herself or anything- she's just really busy, and sometimes she forgets to eat. Her entire body is running on energy drinks and coffee, and while she knows that's not the healthiest diet, she also thinks she might literally die without them. At the very least, she would fail out of school because she would never get out of bed.

She gets strep throat and hears from the campus physician that she needs to stay out of class for three days until the antibiotics take full effect. She doesn't listen to him and goes to every class anyway. A week later, she feels worse than ever, and when she passes out in her bed between lectures on Wednesday afternoon, she doesn't wake up until Thursday morning. Her roommates all tell her that she needs to take it easy, but they don't understand how hard it is for her.

She doesn't think _anyone _understands.

Her parents check up on her regularly, but she starts arguing with them more than she ever has before. She feels like they're being nosy when they ask for the details of her day and want to know her grades and how she's getting along with people. They call it curiosity, but it really bugs her for some reason. She doesn't tell them that she's lost any weight, and when they ask her what she had for dinner, she always makes up something whether she actually ate or not. They ask her how Noah is, and she tells them he's fine even though she barely speaks to him anymore and doesn't know much of anything that's going on. She definitely doesn't share this with her fathers.

What she _does _know is that her roommate suddenly acts like she's his new best friend because they've shared a few Facebook comments. And when Mia asks why it doesn't bother her, Rachel congratulates herself on being a good enough actress to hide her true feelings. Because really, she would like to punch Alexis Goodman in the face. She doesn't know if Lexi is really that much of a slut or if she just has no concept of boundaries, but it seems pretty obvious that you shouldn't go around talking more to your roommate's boyfriend than, you know, your roommate does.

But she doesn't punch anyone. Instead, she takes the diplomatic approach and does what comes totally naturally- she bitches at Noah about it and tells him that if he even _thinks _about it, she'll smother him in his sleep. He, of course, tells her to stop hanging around Santana (it's his go-to defense whenever she says something remotely violent). And then he tells her that Lexi's the one who keeps talking to him, and he doesn't want to be rude since he's going to have to see her on a fairly regular basis.

Overall, it's one of their longer conversations.

Rachel doesn't know what's going on. She doesn't know when things really got this bad, but it seems to just sneak up on her. She still doesn't think that either of them are intentionally doing anything to sabotage their own relationship, but she sees it start to come apart little by little. She loves him, but she's starting to feel so _distant. _A lot of that is literal, of course, because there's definitely physical distance between them. Another part of her thinks that they would still be growing apart even if they were at the same school living in the same building.

They're just both so busy, and everything is so new…

But Rachel wants him. She wants this relationship because they worked too hard for it already. She's not willing to give up, and when she texts him one morning while she knows he's in class, she writes _love you the most, don't forget, _and he texts back with _I remember. _So they're going to be okay, and she knows it's because they both want this and are willing to do whatever they can to keep it.

And that's what her world has become really- a series of locked text messages that she can't bear deleting and a few saved voicemails that he always leaves when he knows she can't answer the phone.

(She also regularly stalks his Facebook while waiting around in rehearsals… Just to make sure there's nothing going on she needs to know about).

She starts getting excited for Thanksgiving break, which is strange because she never imagined she'd be eager to head back to Lima. Still, despite the fact that she argues with her parents on a seemingly constant sort of basis now, she misses them and wants to see them. She also wants to see how everyone else is doing and check in to see how people are getting along in school. Even if most people aren't overly receptive to her, she still wants to know how they're doing.

It sucks, though, that Brittany and Santana won't be there. Notre Dame is playing USC that weekend, so Santana will be in Los Angeles with the rest of her squad. Brittany's already _in _LA, so they'll get to see each other and hang out, and Rachel's kind of jealous. But Noah will be home, and even though she's obviously seen more of him than she has of anyone else, she also misses him more than anyone else. So she's looking forward to that, too. It will also be nice to get a little break from school because she is _definitely _starting to feel it.

On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, she splits a cab to the airport with Jessica, and they wait with each other through security and baggage even though their flights are in completely different terminals. She feels sort of sad when they hug and then split up, which is silly, of course, because they'll be right back in the same room Sunday. The airport is a madhouse of tourists, everyone flying in for the Macy's parade. Rachel's kind of glad to be flying _out. _Still, watching all the excitement of the incomers, she feels more like an actual New Yorker than ever and gets appropriately annoyed.

Her parents pick her up when she gets home. She hugs them both at the same time, feeling like she hasn't seen them in years. She instantly feels bad, remembering the brat she's been over the last month or so, but everything feels really perfect when she's wrapped up in their arms. She talks their ears off the whole way home, and she's glad that neither of them mention the fact that she's thinner or that she looks completely exhausted. She tries to throw them off a little by being as upbeat and positive as possible.

Noah texts her around nine and says he just got home. She sort of doesn't want to leave her dads, but they tell her they're going to bed soon since they're hosting lunch tomorrow. She kisses them both and then hurries over to the other place she considers home in Lima. Bekah practically knocks her over when she opens the door, and his mom hugs her so tightly that she kind of thinks she might suffocate. She doesn't get much time to catch up, though, because Noah's dragging her up the stairs, and she follows without protest because even though the situation's sort of embarrassing, she's missed him too much to care.

She doesn't make it home until the next morning.

She has never particularly _loved _Thanksgiving, mostly because she hasn't been able to really enjoy it in several years. When they visit family or friends, there usually aren't too many dishes that she can eat, and even when it's her own family's turn to host… Well, there aren't a ton of catering places in Lima that really specialize in vegan-friendly Thanksgiving. They try, though. Her dads usually do what they can, making it as easy as they can. And she never really complains because it's her choice, and she's dealt with it for years.

She does, however, like the _idea _of Thanksgiving.

She goes home, showers, puts on a nice dress, curls her hair, and decides that she looks very much like the star of a small-town drama, and she mentally plans a movie in her head as she tries to decide on a pair of shoes. Her parents are setting up downstairs, and she joins them with a bright smile and asks how she can help. She ends up setting the table, and she plans it out beautifully with their prettiest table cloth and the most expensive dishes they own. They won't actually be eating until around two that afternoon, but people will start arriving soon. The caterers will also be here before long, and they need to have as much prepared as possible before then.

When people actually start arriving, though… She remembers why it's only the _idea _of Thanksgiving that she appreciates.

She loves her parents, and she loves her grandparents. The rest of her family… Well, she's never exactly suffered from any sort of love affair with them. She's not close with any of her cousins, and her aunts and uncles aren't necessarily anything to brag about, either. It's just the Berry side this year, though, so at least she only has to deal with half the drama. She's thankful for that at least…

Everything is so serious. Everyone sips wine and eats slowly, and no one really talks much. A few people ask her about New York, but whenever she tries to answer, she can always tell that no one is really interested. So after they've eaten, she asks her dad if she can skip dessert because Noah texts her and tells her that his nana's drunk and moving into the over-sharing, and Rachel really feels like that's something she needs to witness.

She makes it to the Puckermans' just in time for pumpkin pie (and his mom's even made a mini one specially for her). She listens to his grandmother tell all sorts of stories that you'd never really want to hear about your own grandmother but are hilarious about other people's. It's a much more laid back environment than her own house at the moment because it's just him and his mom and sister, his nana, and Mr. Keiser, the eight year old man from next door who has no family around. Rachel's definitely overdressed because everyone here is in jeans, but she doesn't mind. She likes being here.

She wonders what her dads will say if she asks to spend the whole day here next year…

She spends the next several hours in the living room while Noah and Bekah fight for the remote (football versus a marathon of animated Thanksgiving specials). Noah eventually wins (only because he's bigger), so Rachel listens to Bekah tell several months worth of sixth grade gossip, and she remembers exactly why middle school is so terrible.

Eventually, all three of them fall asleep on the sofa, and when Rachel wakes up an hour later, she's the center of a three layer nap. She doesn't move because it feels too nice and too normal. And she kind of thinks even New York City can't beat this.

The whole weekend is pretty much like that. She stays around his house a lot, she makes Bekah go shopping with her on Black Friday because no one else will, and his mom makes her special dishes. It's like she's just part of the family, and it's all so easy and normal. She spends so much time at the Puckermans' that she barely makes time for her own family.

She regrets it on Saturday night when she realizes what an idiot she is.

She spends all day with Noah. They go out to eat, and he helps her choose which of her winter clothes she needs to pack to take back with her. They watch some TV, and they make out a lot. It seems like a pretty average day.

That night, though, she's in his room, and he's kissing her so slowly and softly that she wants to ask him what's wrong. It's not that he doesn't know how to be romantic, but it's slightly out of character for him. It's really out of character considering the fact that the only type of sex they've had for months has been rushed and desperate and needy. This feels more like the old them when they didn't have to throw duffel bags into the back of trucks or drag them onto trains before heading back to two separate lives. It feels more like the them that only ever had to drive four miles to see each other. The them that had nothing to rush.

She loves it, of course. This is what she's always liked best. She loves when he's gentle and sweet, and she's far too much of a sucker for the quiet things he whispers into her ear that always sound like a mix between a prayer and a plea. And since she has no idea when she'll get the chance again, she closes her eyes and tries to commit every second to memory. It feels like his body is making a life's worth of promises to her, and she shivers without really meaning to.

These are the moments that _I love you _was coined for, and she doesn't try to stop herself from saying the words multiple times because she can feel them in every second.

When it's over, though, she rolls to him and folds herself against him because she really just wants to fall asleep like this, with his arms around her and a whole life's worth of promises floating unspoken between them. It's so beautiful and poetic, and she feels like this is the thing that love stories are written of. It feels perfect and magical, and it's just one moment she doesn't want to end.

So when he's stroking her hair and kissing her forehead, the last thing she expects to hear is, "Baby, I don't know if we can keep doing this…"

She just stares at him, not able to pull back and glare at him incredulously like she really wants to. She feels like she's in shock, so all she can do is look at him until she finally finds her voice.

"Keep doing _what?" _she asks slowly.

She can tell he's nervous, and she can also tell that maybe he doesn't exactly want to be having this conversation. So she doesn't know why he is. "Rachel, we don't ever see each other… We're not really being fair to ourselves…"

And that's enough to snap her out of it. She sits up, very aware that she's not wearing anything and is completely exposed. She feels much more vulnerable for it. "We're not being fair to ourselves _why?" _she asks pointedly, an edge to her voice that she doesn't even bother trying to control. "Because we're trying to be _mature_ and _reasonable?"_

And he kind of sighs a little bit. "Rach… Maybe we should just take a break and see how it goes."

And that's it. Rachel feels like she's in some kind of daze. She's not sure any of this is real because it all seems to come out of nowhere. She thought they were just finding each other again, not breaking up. She doesn't know whether to hit him or cry. Instead, she settles on disbelief and anger.

"Did you _seriously _just have sex with me and now you're breaking up with me?" She shakes her head, totally unsure of how any of this is even possible.

He sits up as well, reaching out a hand to once again press some hair behind her ear. She ducks out of his touch, and he at least has the decency to look ashamed. "We can still be friends," he says quietly. "Just without so much pressure…"

Just without so much pressure. She knows exactly what he's talking about. And _friends? _"You are crazy if you think I will ever _speak _to you again," she says seriously. Her blood feels like it's pounding in her ears.

"I was your friend after you dumped _me." _It sounds like a defense that he's had planned in his head, and she has no doubt that he has.

"I didn't dump you so I could go fuck other people," she snaps immediately. And then she gets up, grabs her clothes, and pulls them on so quickly that she's still putting her shoes on as she hurries down his stairs.

She wants to cuss out loud when she sees that his mom is still up. She doesn't stop to talk or say anything at all as she heads toward the door, but she hears him coming after her. She tries to make it to the door, but he catches up with her.

"Rachel, wait!"

She stops because she honestly doesn't feel like she's got in enough of a blow. She spins around and glares at him, seeing that he's at least put pants on. She knows his mom is watching them with confusion, but she barely notices. She definitely doesn't care. She's _furious._

"Can we talk about it?" he asks, and he's speaking very quietly. He's either nervous, regretful, or scared of his mom. It's probably a mix of everything.

If this were a movie, she'd slap him. In reality, she doesn't feel like he's worth it. She doesn't feel like he's worth _anything. _"You are a _slut," _she tells him evenly, narrowing her eyes and hoping that he sees how angry she is. "Don't ever speak to me again."

And maybe it's the lamest comeback in the history of dumping, but she doesn't care. She feels like she might seriously hate him. She gets actual _pleasure _out of the way he seems to flinch at her words.

It's ironic, though, that the most dramatic storm out of her entire life comes with the most pain.

She lets herself feel it when she's driving back to her own house and nearly wrecks the car because she can barely see through her tears. She doesn't know what's going on with her emotions- why she can switch from furious to devastated within a split second. But she's full out sobbing by the time she turns into her driveway and drops her head against the steering wheel. She feels blindsided and used and pathetic.

She doesn't even know what just happened.

She calls Santana when she's locked in her room away from her parents. She doesn't even know if her game's over yet, but all she wants to do is talk to someone who might calm her down and help her make sense. She's not even sure she can talk, though, because she can't stop crying.

"_Raaaaaaaaaaaachel!" _She hears Brittany's voice when the phone is first answered, and it makes her very sad that they're both in California together and she's here miserable.

"Sup, bia?" Santana laughs after she says it, and Rachel kind of thinks they're both probably drunk.

And all Rachel can do is cry more.

"What's wrong?" The joking tone is gone, and Santana sounds legitimately concerned. She's shushing Brittany in the background.

"I just got dumped!" she manages to bite out, choking on the words a little bit. She thinks she might hyperventilate or something. She doesn't know what's wrong with herself that she's about to actually stop breathing over a breakup. But the air in her lungs isn't functioning right.

"He _turkey dropped _you?" Santana sounds shocked, and she can hear Brittany gasping in the background. "Oh, _hell _no!"

"I don't know what that means…" Rachel's hiccupping on her own tears.

"It means he dumped you on Thanksgiving, so he doesn't have to dump you around Christmas or your birthday or New Year's or Valentine's Day! Everyone does it. Watch Facebook, I swear everyone's going to be single by Monday… But what the fuck, I _told _you he was an asshole!"

Rachel tries to process what Santana's just said, and she realizes that if that's true, it's probably the cruelest thing she's ever heard of.

"Why would he _do _that to me?"

"Because he's a _dick, _Rachel! I've been trying to tell you that for years!" Rachel cries a little harder. "What exactly did he say?"

"He just said we should take a break and be friends and see how it goes because there's too much pressure right now or something…" She squeezes her eyes shut, thinking that maybe when she opens them, this won't be real. It is.

"Oh, fuck that," Santana snorts. "He just wants to be friends, so he can still fuck you on breaks."

Rachel knows this, of course, but it still stings when she hears it out loud. "Why would he wait until the night before we're supposed to go back to do this?"

"Um, hello…" The eye roll is evident even over the phone. "If he broke up with you on the first night, he'd miss out on a whole weekend of getting laid."

And Rachel knows _this _as well. Still, hearing it out loud makes her feel like some sort of used whore. She feels like the whole weekend was a lie, and every second that she spent happy was just some sort of excuse for him to use her for sex. It makes her feel sick to her stomach to know that he had to have this planned from the beginning.

"This isn't fair…"

"He's an asshole, Rachel."

It's weird to hear Santana so serious, but Rachel can barely focus on that. All she can do is feel her heart breaking into a million pieces. She thought she'd already had her heart broken- possibly on multiple occasions. She realizes immediately, though, that none of those even scratched the surface of what she's feeling right now. She thinks she might literally be sick any second now.

"I _love _him…" It's barely a whisper, and she knows it makes her sound pathetic.

"Honey, just go to bed." Santana sounds nothing like herself. It kind of worries Rachel. "Call me in the morning. Just go to sleep and try to forget about him."

That's not going to happen, of course.

Rachel doesn't know how she's supposed to forget any of it when everything inside of her seems to hurt. She's not sure she's ever felt this much pain over anything, and it scares her to death. She doesn't know why he would ever want to hurt her like this when all he's ever done is promise her that he wouldn't ever let her feel this way. She wonders how long the lies have been going on. She's questioning everything about their relationship now, and she wants to know if he ever even loved her.

It's the worst feeling in the world.

She lies in bed that night staring at nothing in the darkness and trying not think about the way his arms feel or the way his kisses taste. She doesn't want to hear repeats of his whispers in her ears or see his eyes when she closes her own.

She doesn't know when her love story turned into a tragedy.

… … …

A/N: Dun, dun, dun! Well, at least the updates are coming quickly! The real drama's coming up next… Thanks for reading, and reviews are always loved!


	5. December, Part 1

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter Four**

**DECEMBER, PART 1**

… … …

She doesn't speak to him at all.

She's proud of herself because he makes himself very difficult to ignore. He calls her repeatedly, but she refuses to answer. He leaves a few messages, but she doesn't listen to them. He emails her once, though, and she finds herself unable to ignore that because she's pretty sure he's never written so much in his life. Anything over ten sentences, and he tends to buy it off the Internet. The email actually seems well thought out and crafted.

Too bad she doesn't believe a word of it.

She doesn't believe that this isn't about being free to sleep with other people. She doesn't believe that he thinks she's got too much on her plate and that he's trying to give her a break. She doesn't believe that he loves her and wants to be her friend. She doesn't believe any of it because, like it or not, Santana's explanation makes much more sense. And since she talks to Santana nearly every day now, it makes more and more sense all the time.

She's kind of proud of herself. She really, really wants to answer the phone, and it takes everything she has inside of her to hit delete instead of reply on that email. But she doesn't want to hear anymore lies. She even makes herself stop crying about it. When she cries, she feels weak and sort of like he's winning even though she's not sure it's a competition. So she just refuses to continue with the tears.

By the time she gets back to New York, she's determined to act as though nothing's wrong. She tells her roommates, but she tells them that it's all for the best and that she doesn't care that much. It doesn't bother her that it's a complete lie because it feels better to lie to herself than to tell the truth. Jessica asks if he's trying to get back with her after she ignores approximately the ninetieth phone call. Rachel would like to say yes, but it wouldn't be the truth. She knows that he's not trying to apologize and ask her back, he just wants her hear the rest of whatever he had planned before she called him a slut and stormed out of his house.

She puts more effort than ever into school, getting to rehearsal as early as possible and staying there as late as possible. It's more important than ever that she do this and that she do it successfully. She tells herself that her career and her future are all that matter anyway. She knew it last year, so all she has to do is remind herself. She shouldn't have let herself get distracted anyway.

What she does _not _do is turn herself into a whore. Despite her roommates' (and Santana's) advice, she does not spend her weekends at parties looking for new guys to hook up with and flaunt in his face. She likes to think that she has a little more dignity than that. She's also not sure he would even know. And really, she has no desire to put herself back out there. She needs to be by herself for once. She's hopped from one serious boyfriend to the next to the next. Despite the fact that they were technically apart for a good period of last year, she didn't ever consider anyone else and they were still in each other's lives enough that so that she didn't really feel alone. Now, though, this is serious. They are _not _together, will not _be _together, and she is going to be just fine on her own.

Because when she's a star and making all of her dreams come true, high school romances are going to be nothing but distant memories.

One of her professors catches her after class one day and tells her that she has one of the most impressive voices she's heard in a very long time. She says it's especially impressive considering the fact that Rachel is so young and has had 'limited training.' Rachel doesn't really consider her training _limited, _considering the fact that she's been in vocal training since she was three years old, but her professor is probably one of those women who consider any training not done in a classical studio in New York City to be _limited. _Regardless, Rachel is very happy to hear the praise and thanks her profusely.

It sort of feels like exactly the kind of encouragement she needs to push through everything that feels wrong right now.

Noah calls her one night while she's working on an English paper. She ignores it like she does every other time he calls. He calls back three more times within the hour. It's almost eleven, and when he calls for the fifth time, she wants to answer and cuss him out. Instead, she turns her phone off and finishes the paper. When she turns it back on to set her alarm before bed, there are voicemails that she doesn't check. She doesn't need to hear what he's got to say while he's out at some party and drunk dialing her. She doesn't _want _to hear it.

The next morning seems to come far too quickly, and it takes her a hazy second to realize that it's not her alarm that's waking her up but her ringtone. She fumbles for the phone, sees Noah's name, and sees that it's 5:47 AM. She can't believe he's still up, and she hits ignore before shoving her phone under her pillow and fall back to sleep for approximately two minutes before her phone beeps with a text message. Hating him for being so annoying, she grabs the phone and flips it open. She hesitates a little bit when she reads it. _Call me please, emergency._

Part of her thinks that the emergency is probably him being drunk and thinking that if he doesn't get her to listen to him make excuses that it's going to be the end of the world. Still… Part of her is worried that it's something else. So she sits up in the darkness and calls him back, glancing over at Mia who is still sleeping soundly and hasn't really moved.

She's prepared to be a bitch when he answers because it's early and she's tired and she has a long day ahead of her. But when she hears the way he says her name, something seems to drop inside of her.

"Rachel?" He sounds tired and confused and maybe a little bit like he's been crying.

"What's wrong?" She's scared to even ask.

He doesn't answer right away. She hears him breathing on the other end, and it makes her more nervous by the second.

"Noah, what's _wrong?" _she asks again, a little more firmly this time.

There're another couple seconds of silence before she hears him swallow. "Can you come home?"

"Come… Noah," and she says his name very sharply because there's a huge lump in her throat that's shown up out of nowhere. "What happened?"

And then she hears his breath hitch a little bit. "My mom…" And his voice trails. She feels her _own _breath hitch because she can tell something's really, _really _wrong. "She had an accident."

And Rachel really doesn't want to hear the rest because she's too scared. But she has to. "Is she okay?"

And it seems like an eternity before she hears him swallow again and then quietly say, "No."

And she can't make her mouth form a single word. She sits there in stunned silence, vaguely aware of her own uneven breathing as she tries to process that tiny little word.

He finally starts talking again, and she listens blankly as he tries to give some kind of explanation. "I tried to get here, but I couldn't get a flight, and I had to drive… And I… I didn't make it." She can hear something really devastating in his voice, and it really scares her.

"What happened?" she asks quietly, afraid to believe any of it's true but knowing it is.

"I don't know." His voice is still so quiet, and just hearing it makes her throat constrict. "Just… Rachel, can you come home?" She's never heard him sound so lost and small in her whole life.

So she nods, knowing, of course, that he can't see her but barely registering it. "I'll be there," she says, and it's really barely a whisper.

She sits in stunned silence when she hangs up, feeling like she's caught in the middle of some nightmare. This is the most dramatic thing she can imagine, and she wants no part of it. She doesn't want it to be real. She can hear Noah's voice in her head over and over, and he doesn't sound anything like himself. She's crying, and she doesn't even know.

Dazedly, she calls home. It takes three rings before her father answers the phone sounding completely asleep. He asks her what's wrong, and all she can get out is a weak, _"Daddy…" _before he suddenly sounds totally alert and awake.

She tells him what happened, barely able to choke the words out through the tears that are now steady. Mia wakes up and turns on the light, squinting at her through the sudden brightness as she obviously tries to work out what's happened as well. Rachel can't repeat it when her dad sounds as shocked as she is. She just cries harder and asks him to get her a plane ticket for as soon as possible, and he says he will. He tells her to be careful and to call him if she needs anything, but all she can do is cry.

And then when she hangs up with him, Mia looks at her questioningly, obviously having heard and pieced enough together to know what's going on. She doesn't even have to say anything, and Rachel breaks down completely. She feels Mia hugging her, and she doesn't know when she moved from her own bed over to this one, but it doesn't matter. Rachel cries into her shoulder, feeling herself actually shake with tears. When she realizes that Noah tried to call her the whole night and she ignored him, she hates herself and cries even more. He drove all night, scared to death and all alone, and she ignored him and went to bed.

Her dad calls her back with a 7:40 flight confirmation, and she hurries to throw some things into a bag and get a cab so that she can make it to the airport. Mia asks if she wants her to ride along to the airport, but she says she'll be okay, and she spends the entire cab ride _and _plane ride feeling sick and scared and like the worst person in the world. She just wants to see him and make sure he's okay. She _needs _to see him, and she needs to see Bekah, too. It feels like the longest flight of her life.

She's crying again when the plane lands, and when she finds both of her parents waiting for her, she can't do much else but sob into their arms. They both look really upset and worried, and she wants to know if they've found out anything else, but she's too afraid to ask. They take her to the Puckermans' without having to ask, and the driveway is full of cars that Rachel doesn't recognize. They go with her when she gets out of the car, but she doesn't bother knocking on the door. It's unlocked, and she walks right in, barely registering the fact that there are people all around- a few that she knows from their synagogue and most that she's never seen before. She doesn't see either of the people she's looking for, though, so she ignores all the strangers and goes back through the house toward the kitchen where she finally finds Noah alone and flipping through something on his phone. He looks up when she walks in, and there's a split second of silence before he mumbles, "Thank fuck…" and she hugs him as tightly as is humanly possible. He seems to tense up at first and then relax almost instantly.

She's stopped crying, thinking she doesn't need to cry around him because it'll make him more upset. He's not crying, either, though. She can't see his face now, but from the brief moment of looking at him, she knows that his eyes are slightly rimmed red and that he looks tired, but other than that, he looks pretty okay. She can feel how hard he's breathing, though, with their chests pressed together. She knows he's not okay.

"I'm sorry I didn't answer last night," she says, holding him more tightly but lifting her head to look up at him. His eyes are really brown right now. "I didn't know…"

"It's okay," and he's kind of mumbling.

"Noah…" And she doesn't know what else to say. She doesn't trust herself not to burst into tears.

"They just fucking called me from the hospital and said they were putting her in surgery, and then I couldn't get any fucking flights that late. So I just had to drive, and then I got here, and they just were like… It's too late." She's shocked that he can string so many words together coherently, and he's looking over her head instead of into her eyes. His voice sounds dull but also kind of normal. It scares her how empty his eyes look, though. "I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do now."

"Where's Bekah?"

He frowns and swallows, but he still won't look directly at her. "She's upstairs… All these… I don't even know who the fuck half these people are, but they're all here and Bek's in her room. And I… I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to be doing."

She reaches up for his neck and pulls his head down until it's resting right next to hers. They just stand like that for a few minutes, and then she kisses the side of his forehead and tells him she'll go check on his sister.

Before she heads upstairs, though, she grabs her parents and asks if they can try to clear it out some. She thinks it's safer before Noah snaps and starts cussing everybody and telling them to get the fuck out of his house. Then she goes up to Bekah's room and gets no answer when she knocks. When she pushes the door open anyway, Bekah's just sitting on her bed doing nothing.

But she starts crying the second Rachel closes the door behind her.

She hugs her because she doesn't know what else to do, and Bekah becomes close to hysterical pretty quickly. It's possibly the saddest thing Rachel's ever witnessed, and she starts crying again even though she told herself she wouldn't. It doesn't matter, though. Bekah's clinging onto her so tightly that she thinks she might have bruises. She lets her, though, unable to even imagine what that kind of loss must feel like.

They don't talk because there's nothing to talk about. Rachel just hugs her and lets her cry as much as she needs to. Then eventually, she asks her if she wants to go downstairs, and Bekah reluctantly agrees after Rachel tells her that most of the people are gone (she hopes she's right).

Rachel stays the rest of the day, watching as something much too grown up for her takes place. She's never been involved in planning a funeral before, but she doesn't think eighteen year olds should ever have to be faced with this much responsibility. They have to visit the funeral home and look at caskets and make arrangements, and it's weird and unreal. Besides Noah, there is no one but his grandmother to help make these sort of decisions, and his grandmother is absolutely inconsolable. Luckily, Rabbi Greenburg is there to help and actually take over some of it, which is nice because Rachel knows Noah has no idea what to do and doesn't want to be doing it in the first place. He's walking around in something like a daze just answering people's questions because he has to, while Bekah just stays quiet the whole day and barely speaks. And Rachel isn't ever really sure if she should even be there at all, but he won't let go of her hand so she stays and tries to take care of them both.

She manages to get away long enough to call Santana and ask her to spread the word. She sobs into the phone because she's tired of trying to repress her tears. She still feels like she's in some sort of alternative universe and that none of this is really real. Santana is horrified, which is normal, of course, but Rachel can barely stand talking long enough to give the details before she has to hang up and go back to trying to hold everything together.

That night, though, when Bekah falls asleep and they're all alone, he finally cries. And it's honestly the first time she's ever seen him cry. She hates it. It literally breaks her heart to watch it. He doesn't break down in sobs or anything, but there are tears, and he looks much younger than normal. She lies down with him, and he kind of clings to her. There are a lot of unspoken words between them, but Rachel doesn't know what to say to any of them. She knows in the back of her mind that she's not even his girlfriend anymore, but she kind of thinks he's forgotten completely.

"You couldn't even recognize her," he says quietly, whispering through the dark. "Her whole face was just like… smashed in." And Rachel realizes for the first time that he actually saw the body, that he probably had to identify it or something. Rachel hasn't even heard the story of what actually happened- she's been too afraid to ask. She stays completely quiet as he fills her in. "This truck just went straight through the stop sign and just like… _smashed _her… But it didn't even look like her…"

Rachel can feel the tears when she lifts a hand to his cheek. She hears his breathing go uneven again, and she leans her head up to just barely press her lips to his. It's the first time she's kissed him. He holds her a little closer.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, her chest aching. "Noah…" She doesn't know what else to say, so she just lets her voice trail.

He responds with his own whisper. "I love you."

And she doesn't know what to say to that, so she says nothing. They just lie there in silence until she can tell that he's fallen asleep. Then she lets herself cry again and falls asleep, too.

People visit the next day, mostly to bring food and offer some kind of condolence. Bekah continues to stay mostly quiet and unspeaking, but Noah manages to at least socialize with most of the people who show up. It's clear that he's not really in the mood for so many visitors, but he's not going to be rude. Rachel spends a good portion of the day trying to make a hundred casserole dishes fit into one fridge. It's not an easy task.

Some of their old classmates and teachers show up. It's mostly just the people who are still in Lima, but they've heard and apparently want to show their support or offer an _I'm sorry _or something. Noah's cordial to them, but Rachel notices that he tries a lot harder to act unaffected around them than he does around, say, the old ladies from temple who bring pineapple upside down cake. Finn and his mom show up that afternoon, and at first, Rachel's nervous because Finn and Noah have never gotten along since she effectively ruined their friendship junior year. She's a little afraid that something will be said and that Noah will use it as an excuse to hit something because she's _positive _that's what he wants to do.

So when she witnesses a hug instead, her eyes fill up with tears, and she disappears into the kitchen again to try to make a spot for Carole's lasagna.

Late that afternoon, she's in the kitchen with Noah, and they're heating up some food because his sister's starting to whine. The doorbell rings, but they hear Bekah answer it. Noah mutters something about being over the fucking visitors already as he lifts the aluminum wrapping up to check out the various casseroles. Rachel doesn't blame him. She's over the visitors as well, and she's not even the one who has to make small talk with and suffer the embraces of countless virtual strangers (although plenty of people want to hug her as well for some reason…). When Bekah doesn't join them after a few minutes, though, Noah goes to see who she's being forced to entertain.

Rachel joins them thirty seconds later when she hears a very loud, "What the _fuck _are you doing here?"

She finds Noah and Bekah both in the living room with a man she's only seen a few times in her life and hasn't seen at all in many years. She recognizes him, though, because he hasn't changed much, and the family resemblance is very strong. And she's suddenly very nervous that there is no one else around.

"Noah." The name comes in a very controlled and even sort of voice. "How are you?"

"Get out." The answer is just as controlled, though this is the result of clenched teeth.

Noah and his father look very much alike. Noah is a little taller and as more muscle, but the resemblance is there, especially in the eyes. The difference, though, is that one pair of eyes looks tired and nervous, while the other looks suddenly very alert and full of anger.

His dad tries again, keeping his voice as even as possible. "There are things we need to discuss."

But Noah just shakes his head. "If you don't get the fuck out of my house… I will kill you, I swear to fucking god." And Rachel's scared because she really doesn't think he's lying. She knows she needs to step in, but she feels very rooted to the spot.

"I'm not here to fight with you." The controlled tone has been replaced with one of obviously warranted nervousness. "I just want to see what I can do for you and your sister, see if there's anything you need."

And that's when Noah really does get to fulfill his wish to hit something because he throws a punch so hard and fast that Rachel didn't even see it coming. There's a crack, and it's either his knuckles or his dad's face. There's blood and possibly a broken nose. "What I _need," _Noah snaps hatefully, "is for you to rot in fucking hell, you piece of shit! I said get the fuck out!"

"_Noah!"_

At first Rachel thinks it's her who's spoken, but then she realizes that it's Bekah. Noah seems to realize, too, and maybe remember for the first time that she's actually in the room. She's got tears in her eyes, and that's probably what causes him to grab her hand and pull her out of the room completely, leaving Rachel alone to get rid of the unwanted guest. It's very awkward, and she stands there and says nothing as Mr. Puckerman wipes blood away from his chin.

"Who are you?" he finally asks, and Rachel's shocked that he's actually speaking. "His girlfriend?"

"Yes." Because she is, even if she's not, and she doesn't give a shit if it doesn't make sense to anyone else.

"He's not too happy to see me."

"What are you doing here?" she asks quietly, knowing that she should just be telling him to leave and backing him toward the door or something. She's not scared of him.

He sighs, wipes some more blood away, and then shakes his head. "That's my daughter," he says slowly. "So… I'm here to take care of her."

"Please leave." Rachel speaks immediately, her heart dropping at his answer. If he stays, he's going to end up dead. Especially if he says _that _to Noah.

She doesn't even want to _think _of the reaction that will get.

And when Mr. Puckerman actually leaves, all Rachel can do is pray that he stays gone forever. She has _no _idea what will happen if he decides to come back.

… … …

A/N: Soooo…. Please don't hate me. I told you there was drama coming. NOT pregnancy drama, as so many people suspected… There's a lot of pure angst coming up, so be warned. Thanks for reading, and please review!


	6. December, Part 2

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter Five**

**DECEMBER, PART 2**

… … …

The funeral happens the next day, and it goes exactly like Rachel expects. Meaning, of course, that it's the worst thing she can imagine.

She isn't surprised that she has to take serious control that morning. She has to set out everyone's clothes and force them to get ready. Noah seems intent on delaying it as long as possible, as if refusing to put on a tie will somehow make the whole thing less real. Bekah is whiney the whole morning, and Rachel can't blame her. She keeps saying she doesn't want to go, and Rachel really wishes that she could just tell her she doesn't have to. But that's not an option. Bekah has to go. Noah has to go. If she has to physically dress them both, she will. Eventually, they both get dressed, though. She curls the ends of Bekah's hair because she thinks something like that might actually make her feel a tiny bit better. She tries not to notice the way Bekah's eyes keep watering when she sees them in the bathroom mirror. She forces breakfast on both of them, but she's not surprised when most of it stays untouched. While they're picking at their food, though, she makes a quick run-through of the house and tries to straighten up any clutter or other out of place things that she sees. She knows the house is going to be very crowded after the funeral, and she thinks she probably should have stayed up last night and dusted.

Rachel drives them to the funeral because Noah barely seems awake, and she's sort of afraid for him to be in control of a vehicle. So they take her car, and Bekah sits in the back with her eyes closed the whole way while Noah sits up front and says that he can't wait for this to just be over. Rachel can definitely agree on that point.

The funeral is terrible. There are a ton of people there, more than Rachel has ever seen in the synagogue at one time. Not surprisingly, Noah says he doesn't know who half of them are. She finds her parents while Noah gets called away by the rabbi. They hug her and ask her how she is, and she feels like she hasn't seen them in years when really it was just yesterday. Then she tells them quickly about Mr. Puckerman showing up, and she has to keep her voice low because she _knows _Mrs. Lapin is eavesdropping. She's secretly terrified that he's going to try and show up for the funeral, but she just keeps praying that doesn't happen. She doesn't get much time to talk to her dads, though, because the funeral starts shortly, and it's every bit as awful as she would expect.

It's short, thankfully, and it lasts maybe twenty minutes tops. She can't help it, and she starts crying about five minutes in. She stops listening because everything suddenly seems really real as she sits there and stares at the wooden box that's about to be buried. With nothing to keep her busy, Rachel's suddenly hit with the realization that this is it and that it's really over. It feels shockingly real to her, and that scares her. Noah doesn't cry, but he doesn't look at her or anyone else. He stares very determinedly at a spot under his feet, while Bekah alternates between crying and closing her eyes.

Rachel asks her father to drive them to the cemetery because she doesn't trust herself too much, either, now that she's finally lost it and cried through the entire service. She sits in the backseat with Bekah and holds her hand. Noah sits up front and immediately starts talking. "I don't want to do any of that shit where they make you put dirt in. I don't even want to be there." He's starting to freak out, and Rachel listens as her dad calmly tells him that he doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to. She's really thankful that her parents are being so great through all of this.

The interment is much smaller than the actual funeral. Noah hugs his nana who is still really upset but slightly calmer than she has been. She's there with two of her sisters, and they're doing a good job of taking care of her. Bekah is calmer as well. She stands in front of Noah, and he drops his arms over her shoulders and holds them there until she turns around halfway through the prayers and presses her face into his chest. Then he just hugs her and plays with her hair until the prayers are finished. Afterwards, he says he's ready to go, and they leave before the actual burial starts. They get a few strange looks, but mostly everyone seems to realize that maybe this is just too much for kids their age to take.

Just as Rachel expects, there are plenty of visitors to the house that afternoon. Some women from temple have come over and set up food, and Rachel thinks it's a little imposing that people just assume the family's up for entertaining and guests, but tradition dictates it, she supposes. She doesn't think people know how to react to tragedy without the aid of food. She's never thought about it before, but it's glaringly obvious as she watches the house fill up with people who want to offer their regret and support.

Bekah sticks to Noah the entire time. She gets clingy with Rachel a lot, but when she decides to stick to Noah, she becomes completely irrational and attached. He usually gets annoyed with her, but he doesn't say a word about it today. He just lets her hang on him, fixes her food, and lets her sit on his lap to eat despite the fact that she's clearly too big for that now. Rachel's not sure how she became the hostess, but she's the one who ends up answering the door and accepting even more food as people bring it over and invite themselves in to sit and congregate.

Later that afternoon, the doorbell rings, and Rachel finds herself answering to yet another unfamiliar face. She starts to invite the lady in, but she starts talking before Rachel gets the chance.

"I'm Lydia Cornwall, I work for the Department of Child Services." She offers a smile that goes nowhere near her eyes, and Rachel stares at her silently. "I'm here to speak with Noah Puckerman."

Rachel glances quickly behind her. The house is still full, but no one seems to be concerned with what's happening at the door. As discreetly as possible, Rachel steps outside and pulls the door closed behind her.

"He just got back from his mother's funeral," she says quietly, trying to keep her voice under control. "Can you come back tomorrow?"

"I'm sorry, but no." Ms. Cornwall attempts another facial expression. Rachel guesses this one is supposed to be sympathy. "I need to talk to him now. Is he available?"

Rachel wonders what would happen if she lied and said no. She doesn't want to make this anymore difficult, though, so she reluctantly agrees, inviting her back inside and leading her through the house to the kitchen where Noah and Bekah are talking with a few people she knows are distantly related.

"Noah…" He looks at her, just as she looks away. Then his eyes move over to the stranger, and Ms. Cornwall introduces herself again.

"I'm here to discuss the arrangements for your sister."

"_Arrangements?" _Noah stares at her in confusion, and Bekah looks just as bewildered.

"Yes, is there somewhere more private we could talk?"

"Excuse me." Rachel looks up to see her dad entering the kitchen and walking over towards them. "What's going on here?"

Lydia Cornwall introduces herself for the third time and then asks, "And who are you?"

"I'm his attorney." He nods at Noah who looks both shocked and confused, and Rachel knows she must be sharing the same look. "What's the issue here?"

"Can we discuss this more privately?" It's the second time the request has been made, but this time Rachel's dad takes over, basically telling everyone in the kitchen to leave. They all do as he says. Rachel tries to go with them, but Noah grabs her hand, and she stays.

"Let's have a seat." Ms. Cornwall offers herself and everyone else a chair as though it's her house. Noah doesn't move.

"I'm fine standing," he says, but he moves to a chair when Rachel's dad shoots him a look that he apparently knows well enough to be frightened of. Rachel sits down, too, but she really wants to leave. Bekah once again moves to her brother's lap, and he clasps an arm around her stomach protectively.

"I'm here to discuss Rebekah," Ms. Cornwall says, and then she looks at Bekah and says, "Is this her?" in that annoying way adults talk about children as if they're not even in the room.

"This is Rebekah, yes." Rachel watches as her dad turns on his no-nonsense lawyer mode. "Now what is this about?"

"Obviously, I'm sure that you're aware that her mother had sole custody, correct?"

"I'm aware."

"Her death left Rebekah as a ward of the state, which we've already discussed." She's looking at Noah now, and Rachel has no idea when that particular conversation took place. "She was released to your care at the time of your mother's death."

"It was two fucking days ago," Noah snaps. "I'm not retarded, I remember."

Rachel really wants to disappear because she doesn't like where this is headed, and she doesn't like the warning look that her father shoots his way, either. At least it shuts him up. Ms. Cornwall just frowns but continues.

"After your mother's passing, we made contact with your father and verified his legal rights as a guardian. A motion was filed in court this morning, and the state has awarded him temporary physical custody."

Rachel hears all of that very quickly. The room seems to go completely quiet afterwards, and she watches as her father reaches for the paperwork that Ms. Cornwall has pulled from her bag. She turns her head slowly to look at Noah who is staring straight in front of himself with a blank look as though he really can't believe those words actually just left her mouth. Bekah is doing nothing, staring at the floor and looking like she might cry at any minute.

"Who filed this motion?" Rachel hears her father speaking, but she barely hears the rest of the conversation. She knows that he's questioning several different places on the paperwork and that Ms. Cornwall is giving explanations. She doesn't listen to the specifics, though, because she can tell by the look on Noah's face that he's about to lose it any second.

And he does. Right after Ms. Cornwall says, "The child will be transported to Mr. Puckerman's temporary place of residency tonight."

"Fuck this!" he snaps, and everyone looks at him. Everyone but Rachel seems shocked at his outburst. She isn't surprised in the least. "You're not fucking taking her anywhere, okay?" and his eyes are blazing the same way they always do whenever he's getting pushed over the edge. "He doesn't have any rights to her! She hasn't seen him since she was four years old! She doesn't even know who the fuck he is!"

Ms. Cornwall is obviously surprised (and possibly offended) by his reaction, but she does her best to recover quickly. "I am very sorry for your loss, but you have to understand our position. When a child is-"

"You're not sorry for our loss," he snaps back hatefully. "You don't even know us, and you sure as fuck don't give a shit." He rolls his eyes. "You need to just leave because I promise you you're not taking my sister anywhere," and it sounds every bit like a threat.

"There is a court order in place, and-"

"Noah," Rachel watched her dad interrupt without care. "Don't make this more difficult on yourself than it has to be," he says lowly. "You can't do anything about this tonight."

"She is not going anywhere near that asshole. I don't give a shit what some stupid court says."

"Rachel," and her dad keeps her eyes trained on Noah as he addresses her slowly and carefully, "take Bekah upstairs and help her pack a few things."

"Rachel," Noah's tone is eerily similar to the slow and pointed tone of her father's, and his eyes stay locked with her dad's the whole time he speaks, "don't you fucking move."

And Rachel, who would normally take offense to being ordered around so directly by _either _of them, doesn't really know which one to obey. But of course, she _does _know. She just doesn't want to believe it.

"Noah…" It's a quiet plea, and his eyes immediately move from her dad's to her own and lock there. She sees a challenge there in his gaze, and she knows he's silently _daring _her to do what she's about to do. She really, _really _doesn't want to, and she looks at him pleadingly before she stands up and quietly says, "Come on, Bek…"

"Son of a…" The words die on his lips, and his eyes close as Bekah slides off his lap and takes Rachel's outstretched hand. He takes several slow, steadying breaths, and Rachel makes it almost all the way to the door before she turns around and sees him staring at her with a look she's never seen focused in her direction. He's glaring at her, and it makes her feel awful. He's looking at her like she's just betrayed every bit of everything they've ever had between them, and maybe she has.

"I don't want to go." Bekah barely whispers it when they get to her room. Rachel feels like crying, but she knows she can't.

"You have to, Bekah," she says soothingly. "Hopefully it's not going to be for long."

"I don't even know him…"

"You're going to be fine," she tells her, and she doesn't even believe herself. "We'll get it taken care of, I promise."

And somewhere in the back of her mind, she knows better than to make promises she can't keep. But she doesn't know anything else to say.

The scene that follows downstairs is the saddest thing Rachel's ever witnessed. Bekah starts crying really hard and won't let go once she goes to hug her brother. He looks devastated and lost, and Rachel wishes she wasn't watching any of it. Noah gives Bekah his phone and tells her to call him whenever she wants and if she needs _anything _and promises he'll get her a phone of her own soon. She cries a lot more and tugs on his shirt until he finally has to physically remove her. Rachel's not sure what transpired while she was upstairs, but he's not fighting anymore.

The second the door closes behind Ms. Cornwall and Bekah, though, a flip seems to switch inside of him. "This is _bullshit!" _He actually screams it, and Rachel wonders if any of the visitors are still milling around in the other room. If they are, she can't imagine what they must be thinking. He doesn't let the fact that his father's not actually around this time detract him from falling back on his number one tension reliever, and he punches an actual hole straight through the kitchen wall. Rachel gasps, and he winces in obvious pain, clearly acting before he thought it through clearly.

He doesn't stick around for another second, though. He storms out of the room, and she hears his footsteps heavy as they pound up the stairs. The walls shake a little with the loudest door slam Rachel's ever heard. Part of her feels embarrassed that her father is seeing this. Another part of her, though, is just devastated and exhausted, and she feels her eyes well up with tears.

"Go calm him down," her dad says lowly. "I'm going home. When he's finished hitting things, bring him home, and we'll talk. I have to make some phone calls."

He sounds irritated, but she doesn't know how much of it is actually directed at Noah versus how much of it is directed at the situation. She thinks there's probably a good mix of both.

The house is cleared out completely. Apparently all the lingering visitors left when they realized how much drama was happening. Rachel says goodbye to her parents and then makes herself a pot of coffee. She isn't quite ready to go upstairs, and if she doesn't get some sort of caffeine in her soon, she's going to crash. While she waits on it to brew, she goes into the living room and starts cleaning up. She can't believe only two days have passed. It feels like months since she left New York. It's exhausting.

As she cleans, she looks at the pictures that line the mantle, and even though she's seen them all a million times, they seem vaguely unfamiliar at the moment. Most of the pictures are of Noah and Bekah, but she's there, too. One of her senior pictures… prom… She's up there just like she's one of the kids. And then she starts crying all over again because she lets herself realize for the first time how much _she's _lost as well. She keeps trying to be unselfish and take care of everything, trying not to cry around them because it feels wrong and like it's somehow taking away from their grief. But… Anna Puckerman was the closest thing she's ever had to a mother, too… Rachel loved her. In just a couple of years, she'd turned into one of the most important people in her life, and she took care of Rachel just like her own. And knowing that all of that's gone is just too much…

And Rachel cries for twenty minutes before she forgets about the coffee and goes upstairs.

She doesn't bother knocking, and she's not surprised to hear, "Leave me the fuck alone," when she pushes the door open.

She goes over to him. He's lying facedown on his bed, and she carefully sits down beside him. "Noah…" She runs her fingertips down the back of his spine, but he forcefully shakes her off.

"I said leave me alone, Rachel," he snaps, and she can't see his face, but she knows he's furious.

She bites down on her lip, but she tucks her knees underneath her and leans over to whisper to him. "Talk to me," she pleads.

"Trust me, you don't want to fucking hear what I have to say right now." And it sounds like a threat. She's not used to hearing him talk to her like that, and she can't stop the tears from coming back.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, meaning it with everything inside of her.

"You're supposed to be the one person I can fucking trust," he mutters, and his words are all muffled by the pillow he's currently got his face smashed into.

"You _can _trust me," she says desperately, not lifting her head from its place beside his ear. "Noah, you _know _you can."

"You shouldn't have helped them."

"I _had _to." And she kind of feels like there are sobs building up in her throat. "There's nothing we can do tonight. If you tried to fight it, it would just get worse."

"Stop reciting the bullshit script your dad fed you." He sounds so angry, so hateful. She can't stand it.

"It's not bullshit." She tones her voice right back down a second later, though. "It's the truth, and Noah, you know it."

Taking her chances, she rests a hand carefully against the back of his neck, and she takes it as a good sign when he doesn't shove her away. There's silence, and she wonders for a second if he's somehow fallen asleep. She knows he hasn't, though, when she sees the smallest of tremors run through him. And then before she knows it, he's full out sobbing into his pillow, and she has no idea what to do. She moves her hand to smooth over his head, and then she lies down beside him. He won't look at her. He won't lift his head or do anything but keep his face firmly planted into his pillow as his whole body shakes. And she doesn't say a word because she knows he doesn't want her to. She just lies there and keep her hand placed gently against his neck.

He cries for what seems like a really long time, and they don't speak at all. She instinctively knows that speaking would be a terrible thing right now. He's not the type of person who openly cries, especially in front of other people. It's best to just realize it's happening without acknowledging it in any sense. Her heart aches for him so badly. She's never felt so sorry for someone as she does for him right now.

Maybe an hour later, he's done. And he gets up and goes to the bathroom without saying anything. She just stays there, lying in his bed and trying desperately not to fall asleep. She's completely exhausted, but she knows she has to keep pushing through.

"We need to go talk to my dad," she says quietly, sitting up when he comes back to his room.

And Noah just nods but says nothing. He's still dressed from the funeral, and she watches silently as he changes clothes and puts his shoes on. It's dark outside, and they drive in silence the whole way to her house. When she pulls into her driveway, though, he reaches for her hand and very slowly presses his lips to her knuckles. It's an incredibly sweet gesture, but it's at that moment, that she sees his own knuckles. They are red and swollen, and his pinky is turning an ugly shade of purple.

"Oh, my god." She reaches for it and turns it over gently in her own hand. "You need to go to the hospital."

"It's fine," he mumbles. "Just bruised."

"Noah, it looks really bad."

He ignores her. Instead, he moves his swollen hand to her neck and pulls her forward just enough so that he can kiss her, and she hates how everything in her head is confused. But she loves him too much to say this. Instead, she just lets him press their lips together and then stares at his eyes when he drops his forehead against hers.

"Thank you," he says quietly, and she barely nods, trying very hard to ignore the way her brain is demanding some kind of explanation. It's not the time, and she knows it.

Both of her parents are waiting for them, but the kitchen table is littered with paper and laptops and cell phones, and Rachel recognizes easily the fact that her father has immersed himself in the issue completely. This is how he gets whenever a legal issue that he's particularly passionate about presents itself. She sits down in her usual chair, and Noah follows.

There's a little bit of small talk, and Rachel finally gets the cup of coffee she forgot to drink before. But it's not very long at all before her dad is in full business mode.

"I'm not a family attorney," he states outright. "I don't know every specific of the law, so I can't give you every answer you want right now."

Noah just nods, calmed down enough so that he's no longer going to challenge every word that's said.

"What I need to know," her dad says pointedly, "is what _you _want."

"What do you mean?" Noah sounds very small again.

"For Bekah," her dad clarifies. "Are you looking to get custody of her yourself or what?"

And Noah doesn't answer right away. Finally, he just shakes his head a little. "I don't know."

"It's going to be very difficult to convince any court that she should be placed anywhere else if your father is in the picture. You do realize that, right?"

"What about my grandmother?"

Rachel hates the way her dad's face drops just slightly. "Your grandmother would have to file for that herself, and even if she did…" There's a small sigh. "Even if she did, it's highly unlikely that she would be awarded custody, given her age and the fact that a biological parent is still present."

"I don't want him anywhere near her." And Noah sounds more serious than she's ever heard him sound about anything in his life. "You don't understand…"

"I know he hasn't been a part of your life in many years, Noah, but he still has rights."

"He's an alcoholic."

And Rachel watches her father slide a paper across the table to Noah. "That's a copy of the brief that I just had faxed over." Rachel leans over to read it as well, even though she's not sure it's actually her business. She sees why it's important, though.

"I don't care if he says he went to rehab," Noah says immediately, pushing the paper back across the table with a little bit too much force. "That doesn't mean shit."

"Maybe not. But if he is making a clear effort to change things in his life-"

"He used to beat the shit out of me when I was little."

There's silence after that interruption. Rachel stares at him, but he won't look at her. He keeps his gaze focused on her dad instead. He points to a scar on the side of his chin. "He shoved my head into the corner of a brick wall when I was eight." When Rachel asked about that scar, she was just told he 'got it as a kid,' and it was left at that. She has never heard anything along these lines before, and she feels sick to her stomach.

"He kicked my ass all the time. And I swear to fucking god…" Noah shakes his head seriously. "If he touches my sister, I will kill him."

Her father chooses to ignore that threat. "Are there any documented accounts of any childhood injuries that were directly related to your father?"

But Noah shakes his head. "I never told anybody." He glances down at his hand, and Rachel wonders how badly it hurts. "I always lied. And like blamed it on bike wrecks and shit. I didn't want my mom to know."

Rachel feels extremely ill now. She blinks back tears she doesn't even realize are there. Her dad sighs and puts a hand to the back of his neck. Noah just bites down on his lower lip and then continues calmly.

"I will kill him."

They get sent to bed after that like they're six years old. Rachel knows her dad is frustrated- both with the fact that he's now got a much bigger issue to worry about in regards to Bekah and the fact that he's hearing verbal death threats from a client, something that, as a criminal defense attorney, he probably tries to stay away from.

They go up to her room and get ready for bed, and Rachel's never felt so ready to fall asleep in her life. They crawl into bed and lie there, and there's another heavy silence between them. Rachel's lying on her back staring up at the ceiling where she can still see random bits and pieces of the glow in the dark stars her dads hung for her when she was seven. She can't take it, though.

"Why didn't you ever tell me that?" she asks quietly, and she hears him breathe beside her.

A beat passes and then, "Because it's not important."

"It's very important."

"I never told anyone, Rachel."

She doesn't say anything right away. She listens to the silence for a few minutes. Then, "He doesn't deserve you."

"He doesn't deserve Bekah."

She shakes her head even though he probably can't see her. Then, against her better judgment, she further complicates the situation.

"Noah, I love you."

She falls asleep before he can answer. She's not sure she wants to hear it anyway.

… … …

A/N: Oh, poor kid… Daddy issues for miles! Thanks for all the reviews to the last chapter, and thanks for reading- more to come soon!


	7. December, Part 3

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter Six**

**DECEMBER, PART 3**

… … …

Things don't get any easier.

Rachel watches Noah get more and more depressed with every _hour _that passes, and she watches her father get more and more frustrated as he spends countless hours researching and trying to find loopholes and case precedent and a bunch of other stuff that she doesn't really understand. He gets another attorney involved, a family attorney who actually deals with these kind of cases on a regular basis. Rachel knows he's a friend of her father's, but she has no idea if he's working pro bono or not. She wants to ask her dad if he's paying for it, but she's kind of afraid to hear the answer because it's a little overwhelming.

Her dad, _both _of her dads, have basically put their lives on hold for the past week or so. They are taking care of pretty much e_verything. _She knows for a fact that her father settled the bill with the funeral home even though she's pretty sure Noah's so out of it that he doesn't even realize there _was _a bill. They're letting him stay at the house, feeding him, running interference between him and the many people who are still showing up to offer sympathies (Noah checked out of _that _days ago)… They're doing everything for him, and Rachel knows that he appreciates it- he's just too mentally shut down to realize what's going on and call it charity (something he _hates _and probably wouldn't stand for). But it's not charity. They're being nice to him because they're nice people. They care about other people, and even though they may have had certain issues with Noah in the past, they accept the fact that he is a very important part of her life. And so they love him for it.

But that doesn't mean things are running totally smoothly.

There is tension in their house- both with the added pressure of having an extra member and also with her dad's growing frustration over the legal situation. Rachel has learned plenty about the law over the last few days, just from listening to her dad bitch about it and try to break it down so that Noah can understand why they _can't _just get the next court date moved up or why his father didn't automatically have his rights just taken away when he took off seven years ago. It all seems really unfair, and she can see why it would be so frustrating. It's really hard to think about what Bekah must be going through and feeling right now and have absolutely no way to do anything about it.

Everyone agrees that Noah doesn't need to go anywhere near his father. Even Noah agrees to that. He has enough sense to realize that if he gets around him, he'll very likely end up doing something that will land him in jail and then he'll be able to do absolutely _nothing _for his sister. So Rachel's dad talks to the social worker and works it out so that _he _can pick Rachel up and bring her over for visits with her brother. Everyone involved (including, it seems, Mr. Puckerman) seems to agree that those visits are beneficial to Bekah.

They see her a few times that week for a few hours. Noah does as promised and gets her a phone so that she can call him whenever she wants or needs to. She seems to be doing okay- as okay as anyone can be after having their mother killed and being thrust into the hands of a father they've never known, all within the course of a few days. But physically, she seems alright. She tells them that it's not that bad and kind of mumbles when she says she's okay. She's still in her same school, but they're living in a month-to-month apartment that's outside of the district, and Rachel's worried that if this carries on too much longer, she's going to be forced to transfer, which will just be one more uprooting in her life that she doesn't need. She doesn't voice this concern because Noah hasn't thought of it yet, and she doesn't want to give him anything else to freak out over and worry about.

Eventually, Rachel has to go back to New York.

She's been home for a little over a week, but it seems like several months. She's dreading the return, but she has to go back to take her finals. She's a little worried that missing the last week of classes and all of her study days might hurt her when it comes to finals, but grades seem pretty insignificant now. The events she's witnessed over the past week seem to have aged her several years, and she doesn't feel like a wide-eyed, eager college freshman anymore. She feels like an adult.

She's packing to go back, and Noah's in the kitchen with her dad. They're talking about the legal situation again and about their chances of winning any kind of custody agreement. Noah's decided that he wants to do whatever he can to keep his sister away from his dad and no longer talks about the situation with_ I don't know _for an answer. He said he'll do anything, and apparently that means that he will be trying to get her himself. They haven't talked much about it because he sees it as a two option situation- his dad or himself. He doesn't seem willing to look at any other options, and Rachel hasn't had the energy to bring it up.

She doesn't want to tell him that she's not sure abandoning his education and putting so much pressure on himself is a good idea.

She goes downstairs to get a bottle of water, but she stops outside of the kitchen when she hears Noah ask a question she hasn't heard before. He's asked her father the same 'what if' scenarios a thousand times, but this one is new. And it makes her stop in her tracks and eavesdrop.

"What if…" She hears his voice trail for a second, and then he picks it back up. "If I was married, would that make a difference?"

She presses herself against the wall, the breath seeming to actually catch in her lungs as she listens for the rest of the conversation. There's silence in the kitchen, and Rachel wonders what expression her father must be wearing. She can piece it together, though, when she hears his tone.

"Married to _whom _exactly?" he asks sharply, and she's not surprised that he sounds so accusing with his tone.

"Just hypothetically," Noah answers. "_Hypothetically, _would it matter?"

There is another silence. Rachel waits for the answer, and she realizes that her palms feel sweaty. She has no idea why, and she doesn't even try to piece together an explanation. When her dad answers, his voice is even and controlled. She recognizes it because it's the voice he used to use whenever she was doing something he didn't approve of and he was trying to give her a warning before losing his temper.

"Noah, I am going to say this as nicely as possible. If you ask my daughter to marry you, I will hurt you."

"I didn't-" Noah cuts himself off and sighs. Then he seems really determined and says, "I love her."

Rachel doesn't want her heart to flutter the way that it does when she hears that. He's said it to her countless times over the last week, more than he ever has before, but hearing him say it so openly to her father makes something inside of her tingle. She hates that it does, though, because she's more confused than ever about what's going on between them. She swears he doesn't even remember dumping her at all because he hasn't once mentioned it, and she hasn't brought it up. She's scared to, to be honest. She's not sure she _wants _to know what he has to say about it.

She'd much rather listen to him tell her father how he feels.

"I know you do," her dad says simply. "I even believe it. There is no doubt in my mind that you care about Rachel _very _much or that she cares about you just as deeply. But you are eighteen years old. And putting my daughter in that position is one thing I will not stand for."

_That position _makes it sound like they're living in the 50s and are being forced into marriage for making some terrible mistake. That's not it at all. And even though Rachel knows the entire scenario is ridiculous and that they _can't _get married right now (and probably don't even _want _to), she's still a girl. And the thought still makes her heart swell a little bit.

Funny, really, since she's never even wanted to _get _married.

"I just wanted to know if it would make a difference in court," Noah says quietly. "I just thought maybe if I was married that it would look better…"

"It very well might," her dad says honestly. "But you are not going put her in a position where she feels obligated to give up her own life and her own dreams. You are too young to be married, and I don't care if you love each other or not. That's not a reason to ask her to give up on something she's worked hard for her entire life."

Rachel feels angrier than she probably should. She doesn't like the way her father is just assuming the situation would go. She doesn't think that he should assume she'd feel _obligated _to do anything. She knows what her dreams are and what they include, and she knows that maybe she'd do anything to get them all. In fact, she _knows _she would. But her dreams aren't just a _what, _they're also a _who… _ And she's pretty sure, at this point, that she'd do anything in the world that Noah asked her to.

That scares her.

Later that night, they're in her bedroom getting ready for bed. Rachel's putting the last of her clothes into her bag and already dreading waking up the next morning. She's not ready to leave, but she knows she has to. She wishes she could just take him with her because she can't stand the thought of leaving, but he needs to be here for his sister. It just sucks, though.

He's already in bed flipping through his phone when she finishes and crawls under the covers. It feels very normal, despite the fact that their current situation is anything but. This part, though, feels so comfortable and natural. She feels like crawling into bed next to him comes as easily as breathing. After this week, she's not sure she's going to be able to fall asleep by herself. She has spent nearly every single second with him, and the thought of the impending distance makes her sad and lonely despite the fact that he's currently right beside her.

She rolls toward him and feels both of his arms go around her as she leans her head over against his chest. They've slept like this every night- curled up together with their arms around each other, and by this point, she's not really sure who's suppose to be holding whom anymore. She knows he needs all the comfort in the world, but she needs some, too. She feels like they're taking care of each other. She's not sure they know how to do anything else.

She's the one who kisses him, just barely brushes her lips against the corner of his mouth. There hasn't been much of that this week, but every single kiss suddenly feels like it means much more than it ever did before. She's not sure exactly _what _they mean, but they've crossed a line that goes far beyond normal teenage hormones. This time, though, instead of just letting her lips brush against his, he turns his head and kisses her back. She feels something there, and even though he doesn't come out and say it, she knows he's dreading the impending separation as much as she is.

They just kiss for awhile. Really long, slow kisses that mean everything all at once. She wants to tell him a hundred things, but she doesn't really think she needs words if they can keep doing this because she knows that he has to be feeling what she is. The emotions are pretty overwhelming. Part of her feels like this is the best thing in the world, while another part of her feels like she might burst into tears at any given second. Her emotions are on a roller coaster, and she doesn't know how much longer she can keep them in check.

It's not until they've been kissing softly for a long time that he shifts them a little bit so that he's more on top of her. She feels his hand between her legs, and her first instinct is to give him a better angle and encourage him to continue. She's not completely lost, though, and she knows exactly what will happen if she doesn't speak up. She's not sure that she wants to stop. She just wants to know.

"Noah," she gasps out, turning her head away from the kiss and putting a halting hand to her chest.

He seems to realize in that very second everything she's been wondering all week. It's like he suddenly remembers that he broke up with her and that no matter how they've been acting, she's not his girlfriend anymore. He's got a weird look on his face, and he stops immediately.

"Shit," he says quietly, and she thinks he looks nearly devastated. "Sorry…"

He looks so sad and lost and confused that she feels her heart break all over again. She can't stand his eyes looking so pitiful, she's seen him look like that way too many times lately. It really, _really _hurts her.

"It's okay," she whispers, her mouth working before her brain. She just wants to get that look off his face, and she's willing to do whatever she has to.

Their eyes lock, and she wonders if there's some hidden message there that she can't decode. It doesn't matter. She'll do anything to make him feel better, it's okay. He kisses her again, slowly and pointedly, and she feels it all the way to the tip of her toes.

She lets him go further because it feels natural and because she wants to give him whatever he needs. She feels like he _needs _this because she picks up a sense of urgency hidden beneath the quiet kisses. It feels different than normal, and she wonders if that's because _they're _different. They're more mature, more grown up. It just feels _deeper _somehow, more emotional. He whispers things to her as his hands drift over her body and his lips alternate brushing against hers and moving back to her ear. He tells her he loves her over and over, and he says other things that make her actually shiver.

Her eyes are welling up with tears by the end, though, and she knows that's wholly inappropriate. He notices when his breathing evens out and he tugs her as close as possible. He sees the tears and kisses a stray one away from her cheek.

"Baby, are you okay?" he asks quietly, kissing her gently again. He hasn't called her baby all week.

"I don't want to leave." She closes her eyes for a second.

"I don't want you to leave, either," he admits lowly, and then he locks eyes with her. "Ever."

She shivers again. "Noah… You broke up with me."

Hearing it out loud sounds much worse than in her head. She's not sure where the words came from. They scare her a little, even more when she sees the way his face falls.

"I was stupid," he whispers, and then he kisses her again like that will somehow make it not true. She hates that it kind of does. "Rachel, I… I want to take that back."

She stares at him with no idea how she's supposed to respond to that. She's not sure it's fair of him to ask, but she's not sure she can tell him that, either. She's silent as one of his thumbs wipes gently at her cheek.

"Rachel, don't cry." His voice is very low and serious. "Please."

"I'm confused," she admits, and she feels almost like she's having some sort of out of body experience. She knows that whatever's happening between them right in this second is going to be one of the most meaningful and dramatic moments of her life.

He stares at her. His eyes are green and clear, and she loves them when they look like this. They've been more brown than green ever since she's been home, and she's missed it. "I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I thought that was… I thought it was the right thing, but it wasn't." He shakes his head. He sounds more grown up than she thinks she's ever heard him sound. She thinks he _is _grown up now. "I haven't been with anyone else," his voice drops even lower, but he keeps his eyes locked to hers.

"You haven't?"

And he barely shakes his head. "I told you it wasn't about that…"

That's a good thing, of course, considering the fact that she's just had sex with him and didn't give two thoughts to asking him about a condom. She trusts him maybe more than she should, but she can't help it. She's been afraid to ask who he slept with in their few weeks of breakup, and she's more relieved than she can express to learn that the answer is no one.

"Rachel." His voice breaks off after he says her name. But he's still staring at her intently, and she still feels everything inside of her stand on edge. "I was just fucking stupid, but… But things are different now, and I know what's important."

She stares at him, scared to ask him to elaborate. He does anyway.

"_You're _the most important thing, Rach. You and Bekah, and I don't give a shit about anything else. I just fucking _need _you, okay?"

He sounds desperate, and his eyes are watery. She wants to demand more of an explanation. She wants to tell him that no matter how much she loves him, he can't just _take back _a breakup (even though she sort of did once before…). But she can't say any of that because she knows he's not lying. She can tell by looking at him that he really _does _need her, and she already knows she's going to give him anything and everything that he wants.

He drives her to the airport the next morning after she says goodbye to her dads in the kitchen. He hugs her for a really long time and then almost can't let go of her hand when she has to leave for the security checkpoint. She's only going away for a few days, but she can already tell it's going to feel like a lifetime.

New York seems different than it did before she left.

She gets a cab straight from the airport to her dorm, and she greets her roommates dully as she goes to unpack her things. She's texted them a few times, but she hasn't had much contact with them while she's been in Lima. They're all sympathetic to her, and Mia sits on her bed and watches as Rachel puts away her clean clothes and gets her books in order for some pre-finals cramming. She tries to make casual conversation, but Rachel doesn't feel like talking. So it kind of just dwindles, and Rachel spends the night going over anthropology notes.

She tries to focus on her exams, but she knows she's not doing as well as she could be. She can't make herself care too much, though, and she figures that as long as she gets by, she'll be fine. For the first time in her life, she doesn't really feel up to singing, and she half-asses all her performances. She's tired, though. And there's too much on her mind to make anything else seem really important.

She feels terrible that part of her is relieved to be away from Lima, though. The past few days have been the most exhausting and grueling of her life, and it feels like a huge weight is lifted off of her now that she's back in New York. She never thought New York City would give her a _break _from Lima, Ohio, but that's exactly what it feels like. She crams a lot, but she catches up on as much sleep as possible, too. She misses Noah, but she's so tired and overworked that going to sleep is not nearly as difficult as she imagined it would be.

She talks to him all the time. She calls him several times a day, and he calls her all the time, too. When they're not talking, they're texting, and she's glad to have that constant connection to him. It helps her think that he's okay, even though she knows he's miserable. She's not all that surprised that he didn't really move out of her bedroom after she left. He says it's just 'easier' considering the case and the fact that her dad is the one getting Bekah and all that. She knows a lot of it is just that he really, _really _doesn't want to be alone. She doesn't want him to be alone, either, so if that means him taking up permanent residency in her bedroom, she's okay with it. Even if she's not there to join him.

After she takes her last final, she packs a bag and once again takes a taxi back to the airport. The last time she made this trip home, she was hysterical and frantic and worried to death. Now, though, she's calm and resigned and knows exactly what's waiting for her on the other side of this plane ride. It makes it easier.

Her insides ache just a little bit because she kind of feels like she's saying goodbye to New York.

Noah picks her up right where he left her the week before. Bekah's with him, and she loves them both so much that whatever sadness she had inside of her about leaving the city seems to disappear immediately. They all go out to eat, and she's glad to see that Bekah seems happier than she's been. She's not back to normal, but she laughs a few times and talks more. Her hair's shorter, cut to her shoulders. Rachel doesn't know when that happened or whose idea it was, but she just tells her it looks cute and doesn't ask questions.

At one point, Noah gets up to go pay, and Rachel keeps one eye on him while she tries to get information out of his sister.

"Bekah, just be honest with me, okay?" she says quietly, watching as Noah stands in a line four people deep to settle up the check. "Are you doing alright?"

She wants to know because she needs to hear for herself that everything's okay and that Bekah is fine. She worries about her all the time, and she needs reassurance.

"Yeah, it's okay." Bekah pushes around some leftover fries on her plate.

"_Honestly," _Rachel reminds her seriously. "How are things with your dad?"

She doesn't get an answer right away. Bekah just keeps moving her fries around, dragging random designs through the ketchup. Finally, though, she sighs and looks up. "I miss Noah." Her eyes dart toward the table for a second. "But it's really not that bad…"

And that's exactly what Rachel was afraid to hear.

That night, they send Bekah back to her dad, and Rachel spends the evening catching up with Noah in every way imaginable. Things feel calmer now, like they've cooled off in the short amount of time she's been away. Even her parents seem less stressed, and she's glad that they don't bug her for details on her finals. She doesn't feel like telling them that she's not at all sure her grades are going to be anything close to good.

Even though she's not really sure it even matters now.

Santana comes home two days after Rachel does, and it's a little pathetic how happy she is to see her. She temporarily extracts her hand from Noah's, and she meets up with Santana for lunch the day after she gets back. Santana looks amazing, of course, and she's somehow skinner than she was before they all left for school. She's only in town for a few days because Notre Dame has a major bowl game coming up, and she has to get back to Indiana for prep and packing. Rachel wants her to stay forever.

She doesn't know when Santana Lopez became her best friend, but it happened somewhere…

They talk about school a little bit, but Santana really wants to know what's going on at home. Rachel gives her all the details she's somehow left out in the phone conversations they've had. Santana looks like she actually feels _sorry _for Noah, which is saying something because those two generally have little more than contempt for each other. They can get along just fine on occasion, but there are threats of physical violence just as often. She looks like she feels awful about this, though, and she digs around at her salad silently for a few minutes.

Finally, though, she asks, "So what's really going to happen? I mean, like what does your dad say about it?"

Rachel shrugs one shoulder. "I don't think he sees a big chance of anything changing. As long as his dad is there and is taking care of Bekah, then he says the court probably isn't going to change anything."

"But if that happens, Puck will like fucking kill somebody." Santana seems oddly serious when she says it, not joking or anything, and Rachel's a little scared because she knows that's very possible.

"He just doesn't go around his dad," she says quietly. "He hit him the only time he saw him."

"I just can't believe that bastard would have the fucking nerve to show up _now _and try to fucking make amends or some shit. If he gave a shit, he would have come back around _before _their mom was dead."

Rachel nods because she thinks all of that is true. Still, though… "Well, it's not like he just showed up. The social workers or whatever had to track him down and fill him in on the situation. I guess maybe he just decided it was time to do something decent…"

"This isn't fucking decent! Taking a little girl away from the _only _family she knows the day of her mother's fucking _funeral _is pretty damn shitty."

"I know," Rachel says quickly. "I agree. I just don't know how much of that was _him _and how much of it was the state."

"Fuck that." Santana drains the last of her water loudly to get the server's attention. "Puck needs to go over and beat the shit out of him. He needs to go kick his ass and get his sister back."

"And go to jail."

Santana just shrugs. "It'd be worth it."

"No, it wouldn't!" Rachel's surprised by the way her own voice rises slightly. "If he starts doing things like that, it's going to make it even _harder _for him to help Bekah. Don't encourage him. _Please."_

She knows exactly why Santana and Noah have such an explosive love/hate relationship. It's because they're virtually the same person, and the things that go through their heads are so alike that it's almost scary. There is no doubt in her head that if she weren't around to run interference that Santana would tell Noah just that and that he would take her advice in a second and go do exactly what she suggests. She loves them both, but they're extremely dangerous together.

Her dad comes home one day with a court date for January 17th. He says it's just a hearing, and Rachel really doesn't know what that means in terms of anything significant. She sees that Noah seems to calm tremendously with the knowledge that there's actually a court date, even if it is still several weeks away. At least it's progress. He texts Bekah and lets her know, and Rachel goes upstairs to her room to prepare for what she knows is going to turn into a fight.

He comes up later and asks her if she wants to watch whatever game he and her dad are watching downstairs. She doesn't, of course, so she just shakes her head. She almost just lets him go back down to the pizza and junk food and sports-induced violence, but then she stops him and asks if they can talk. He looks at her, and she knows she looks serious, so he just nods and sits down on her bed, wrinkling the bedspread as he does so.

"I haven't told my dads yet," she says softly, sitting down across from him and unconsciously smoothing out some of the wrinkles in front of her. "But I think I'm going to take a leave of absence from school."

She doesn't look up, but she can feel his eyes on her. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I just feel like that can wait. It's important for me to be here right now."

She expects a fight. She expects his reaction to be half-hostile as he tells her that she doesn't _need _to be here and that he is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. She has been hearing it in her head for days now, so she expects it. She expects it, but it's not what she gets.

Instead, she gets a few seconds of silence and then a very serious, "It's more important for you to be in school."

She shakes her head, finally looking up. "There's nothing there for me," she says quickly, and she hates that it feels like the lie that it is. She wants to believe it. "I barely know anyone. I can just put everything on hold, and-"

"I don't want you to put it on hold," he interrupts. "Rach, you know putting it on hold is just the first step to dropping it altogether."

"So?" And she looks down again. "Maybe it's worth dropping…" She's barely mumbling now.

"No," he says flatly. "You worked too damn hard for that shit to be anything less than fucking awesome."

Three cuss words in one sentence. It's the first time she's heard him sound like himself in days.

Still, though. "Noah, I don't want you to be in a position where you think you need to _ask _me to do things I want to do anyway."

"What are you talking about?" He shakes his head at her. "You already do fucking everything anyway."

"I can't do it in New York…"

He sighs, and she wonders if she's about to get the fight she planned in her head. "Rachel, you're crazy if you think I'm going to ask you to drop out of school so that you can come hold my hand. I'm not five."

She thinks that's as close as she's going to get to the argument.

"It's not fair that you have to give everything up!" she argues quickly. "You're leaving school, and I don't think it's fair that you have to put so much pressure on yourself and give so much up."

"I don't even know what the hell I want to do," he says honestly. "You've known that shit since you were in fucking _preschool. _You're not giving it up."

"I want to be _here."_

"You're not dropping out of school."

"You can't tell me what to do!" She means for it to be threatening, but he actually laughs a little, which causes her to glare.

"You can't tell me what to do, either, but that doesn't stop you from being the bossiest motherfucker I've ever seen in my life."

She wants to be furious with him, but she can't. He smiles at her and tugs her forward until she's got her head resting against his shoulder. He plays with the ends of her hair and speaks to her ear.

"I'm fine, Rachel. Swear. Don't worry about me."

That's easier said than done, of course, and she's going to worry about him nonstop every second that she's not with him.

"Please don't even mention this to your dads, okay?"

She doesn't know why he asks that, and she wonders if any of it has to do with the conversation she overheard before she left to take her finals. But she just nods because she doesn't know what else to do.

She doesn't want to leave, but she doesn't want to stay, either.

… … …

A/N: Thanks for reading! Sorry this one took a little longer to get out!


	8. January

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter 7**

**JANUARY**

… … …

She spends the first part of January in Lima, doing as much as she can before she has to go back to school. She and Noah go to Philadelphia to get his things from his dorm, and it makes her a little sad to realize how close he was the entire time and how they didn't make more of an effort to benefit from the short distance between their schools. When she goes back to New York, he'll be in Ohio, and that's a lot further than Philadelphia. They're _never _going to see each other.

He seems sad as he packs his things up. There's not a ton, of course, because he wasn't here that long. But he throws his clothes into bags and gathers up his DVDs and video games. He goes downstairs to check his mail one last time, and she mindlessly plucks at his guitar, wondering why she never let him teach her how to play. It feels like it's too late now- like too much has changed and she can't ask for something as normal as guitar lessons anymore. She wonders if he'll even play anymore. He should. Music is very cathartic. She's spent the last month hearing a million different perfect songs float through her head, but she's not in the mood to sing any of them. He uses music to express himself as well, even if he likes to pretend otherwise. She remembers the first time she ever saw his real music. She thinks that might be the moment she actually fell in love with him.

Even if it did take her more than a year to actually admit it.

She hears the door to his room open, and she glances over her shoulder to see him flipping through some envelopes. He stops, though, dropping the rest onto his desk as he looks at one carefully. She wonders what it is, and she carefully sits his guitar down on his bed and goes over to his desk. She sees the return address on the envelope he's holding, and she understands the look on his face. It's from his mom. And the date on the postmark is the morning after her accident…

He just stares at it for what seems like hours, and then he opens it with slightly shaking hands. It's a Thinking of You card. Two twenty dollar bills fall from the middle. Inside, it just says, _"Good luck on your finals. I love you." _And that's enough to make Rachel feel the need to sit down before she starts crying. Noah's still just staring at it. And then finally, he closes it, sets it down carefully beside the other unopened envelopes, and walks silently into the adjoining bathroom.

Then Rachel hears a very loud crashing noise, and she gets up to find out what is going on.

He's holding his right hand with his left, and she can tell that this time he wasn't so lucky to just bruise his hand in an attempt to take his anger out on the wall. The walls in the dorm and the bathroom are made of concrete, and they don't just break under the punch like the walls in his kitchen do. He's broken his hand, and she can tell by the way it's already swelling up. Tears are stinging his eyes, and she's just going to assume it's from the pain in his hand.

"I think I broke my hand," he says gruffly, looking at the ground instead of at her. She just nods because she doesn't know what to say.

She gives him a make-shift ice pack with the leftovers in his Dr. Pepper. He says about fifty cuss words the second the ice hits his hand, and then she takes him to the ER with relatively little argument. He doesn't say a word the whole way, and she doesn't try to say anything, either. There's nothing _to _say.

They end up waiting in the ER for hours. They don't talk much, and Rachel reads every magazine in the waiting room before he's finally called back. He takes her with him, and she's glad because she doesn't want to sit out here alone for God only knows how long. But she hates hospitals, and she hates the way they smell and sound and just how sullen everything is- even in the ER where there's always something happening.

A nurse comes into his room pretty quickly and takes him back for an X-Ray, and Rachel flips through the channels on the TV and contemplates texting her dads to let them know what's going on. She decides against it, though, since she's not sure they approve of this aspect of him- the aspect where he has to hit things to express any kind of emotion. She doesn't exactly approve of it, either, but she's used to it. She knows they'll find out soon enough anyway, but she doesn't see the point in expediting the process.

Noah comes back to the room by himself and with a fresh ice pack. It's one of those medical ones, not the makeshift one in a plastic bag that she made him from a Wendy's cup. He sits down on the bed sideways and looks up at the TV. She's got it on some documentary, and even though he clearly has no idea what's going on (she doesn't, either, for that matter), he stares at it until she finally speaks.

"Did they say it looked broken?"

He shrugs one shoulder and doesn't take his eyes off the television. "They don't tell you shit in there. I gotta wait for the doctor."

"Noah, stop punching things," she says quietly, and she's looking at him when he finally looks away from the TV. He sort of scowls at her, but she just holds his gaze.

"It feels good."

"No, it doesn't," she tells him seriously. "The wall didn't do anything to you."

"Just fucking shut up, Rachel." He stops looking at her again.

"Don't be an asshole to me."

He rolls his eyes, and she wishes he could see how stupid he's being right this very second. She also wishes she could wrap her arms around his neck and pull his face to her shoulder and hug him. She knows neither one of those things is happening right now, though.

They sit in silence, and she's mad at him but also feels really, really terrible for him, so it's confusing. He doesn't watch the documentary, but his eyes don't leave it. They can hear people talk on the other side of the door and random beeps and buzzes from the machines in the hallway. It's ridiculous, and Rachel hates every second of it.

"I guess she stopped being mad at me." He doesn't look at her, and his voice is very quiet.

"Who?"

"My mom." He's silent for a few seconds, and then says, "She was so fucking pissed at me."

Rachel doesn't say anything right away. She's once again at a complete loss for words. It's been happening more and more lately, and she finds it more than a little unnerving.

"Like way more pissed than she's been in a really long time."

Finally, Rachel can't help herself. She asks, "Why?" without really thinking about it.

And then Noah looks at her again, and she can tell that she should already know the answer. "Think about it," he says dully. "What were _you _doing the last time you saw her?"

And Rachel looks away because she hates remembering that. She tries not to think about the fact that the last time she saw his mom, she was storming out of the house without saying goodbye to her and calling her son a slut and screaming at him to never speak to her again. She's not sure she's ever going to forgive herself for that final memory.

Rachel doesn't say anything, just stares at the wall and listens as he sighs loudly. She can see from the corner of her eye as he leans his head backwards against the wall behind him.

"So yeah, she was pissed." His voice sounds almost emotionless. "Like yelling and shit. She told me I was fucking up my life." A beat passes. "She didn't say fucking."

It's kind of the first time they've talked about it, minus one very brief conversation in her bedroom where he basically just called a redo and she let him. She's not sure she wants to even be having this conversation now. Or at all. Part of her just wants to forget it and continue on pretending that it never happened. They've been doing okay so far.

Noah seems fully intent on just filling up all of the conversation himself, though, which is odd, since he usually has so little to say about anything. "Guess she got over it. If she sent me a fucking card."

"Noah…" She looks back at him, but he's missing her eye contact once again. This time, he's looking at absolutely _nothing._

"She was probably on her way back from dropping it in the mailbox when that truck smashed her fucking car in half."

"Don't…" She doesn't know what she's planning on telling him, so she just lets him interrupt her.

"You didn't see her." His voice is low but determined. She can see the anger and hatred boiling up behind his eyes. "It looked like something in a fucking horror movie."

She's just about to say something, but she's interrupted when there's a quick knock and the door pushes open. Dr. Klein comes in and introduces himself. Then he throws some X-Rays up against the light and kind of smirkingly says, "So you got in a fight with a wall, huh?" And Rachel wants to say something really mean because it's not funny. She doesn't get a chance to, though, because the doctor goes right into a spill about how the middle knuckle's broken and needs to be set with a splint and observed for the first few weeks. He says something about surgery being a possibility, but Rachel tunes him out because Noah still looks like he wants to fucking _cry, _and she's completely positive this time that it's got nothing to do with his hand.

It's too late to leave when they get out of the hospital, so they just go back to his dorm for the night, and he rolls all the way to the wall before she even gets her pajamas on. They don't really speak to each other, and she's not sure why. She hates being so far away from him in this little tiny bed. But she doesn't say anything because she knows it's not going to matter.

She wakes up in the middle of the night, and his arms are around her. And when she turns her head to see if he's awake, he just holds her tighter, and she closes her eyes.

She goes back to New York three days before the court hearing.

It's weird being back, but it's also nice. When she left, she wasn't sure that she'd be back, so coming back to her dorm and her roommates feels a little bit like coming home. She isn't quite as withdrawn this time as she was the last time she was here, and she thinks they can tell. Some of the drama has calmed down, and she notices that Mia and Jessica aren't fighting anymore apparently. She doesn't know what or when that happened, but she likes it better when everyone's getting along. They all go out for dinner on the first night that everyone's back, and Jessica lets them in on the fact that she and her boyfriend are 'dunzo' and that she was dumped over a plate of spaghetti on New Year's day. They all agree that's pretty harsh, but Jessica just shrugs it off and says now she gets to be single and sounds kind of excited about it.

They all want to know what's going on with Noah, so Rachel tells them as much as she feels comfortable sharing. It's a little odd, since none of them know him particularly well, so it's weird to sit there and share the details of his life. They all seem to feel really bad for him, though, which is nice. She likes that they're sympathetic and feels a little safer knowing that none of them will just call him up and encourage him to go kick somebody's ass like Santana might. She's still hoping against all hope that Santana never gets drunk and makes that phone call because she's sure he wouldn't need much push.

She goes to her first day of classes and sings what she knows is a _flawless _version of "Back to Before," and she takes a great deal of pleasure in the way her classmates and the professor all seem impressed. She makes up her mind that she's going to _do _this. She can do this, and she can do everything she needs to do at home, too. She decides right then that it's all part of her destiny, and that this part- this New York part- is something she _will _make happen.

It feels better than it should to have such a focused goal again. That's always been her strong point.

She goes to class on the morning of the seventeenth and sits mindlessly through her lecture. She's not really paying attention, but she keeps her phone in her lap and waits for it to buzz. She wants to know what's going on at home, and even though she has no idea how long these things take, she's waiting eagerly for any kind of update. She doesn't get it until much later that afternoon, after she's eaten a pack of crackers for lunch and downed two Red Bulls for a full night of rehearsing.

She's pushing her way through a crowded sidewalk when she feels her phone buzzing in the pocket of her coat. She pushes her way to a dip between buildings and answers it, taking close note of the fact that there is a huge pile of trash just a few feet away that is very likely infested with rats or something worse. She keeps one eye on it as she answers the call.

"Nothing fucking changed!"

Noah sounds furious, and she imagines he is. She lets out a breath she's probably been holding all day. She _hates _all of this.

"What happened?"

"Nothing!" He's on the verge of breaking the rest of his knuckles, she can tell. So she tries to calm him down a little with a gentle tone.

"What did the judge say?"

"Just that everything's going to stay the fucking same until an actual custody trial can be scheduled and that he has no reason to fucking remove the kid from her father's custody or some shit, I don't fucking know!"

He's screaming at her, but she doesn't tell him to stop. She thinks he probably needs to, so she just lets him. "Did you get to say anything?"

"No! Your dad talked. And Richard." Richard is the family attorney her father recruited to help. "Then that stupid bitch from the state."

Rachel wants to tell him not go around calling people stupid bitches, especially people who are just trying to do their job. But she knows better. She knows that anything she says in that vein will be seen as some sort of huge betrayal, and he really needs someone on his side.

"Well, what about Bekah? Was she there?"

"No, she's at school. They said there was no need for her to be there. They don't give a shit what she wants anyway."

Rachel feels terrible for him, and she hates herself a little bit for being in New York City while he's spent the day in court with absolutely no resolution. She's a little scared to ask, but she does anyway. "Did you see your dad?"

"Yeah, I saw that motherfucker, and he better be glad there's like cops and shit around that place because I want to fucking beat his ass to death, and I'm not even playing."

"Noah."

"You think I'm fucking joking?" She doesn't. At all. "I'd rather my sister be a fucking _orphan _than have to be anywhere near that bastard."

"Noah, you need to be careful. If people hear you saying stuff like that…"

"I don't care! I hope they fucking hear it! This is such bullshit! None of those assholes care about Bekah!"

She feels like crying, but she doesn't. She keeps her voice under control and tries to be as reasonable as possible without pissing him off further. "You're doing everything you can. Bekah knows that, and she loves you for it."

"It doesn't matter what the fuck I'm doing when the people who get to make all the goddamn decisions don't give a shit and just pass her off to some asshole who bailed on her before she was in fucking _kindergarten!"_

She's taking a gigantic risk with her next statement, but she has to say it. "You have to let go of some of that anger… It's not healthy."

And she isn't surprised when he snaps on her. She expects it, so she just braces herself and listens. "What isn't fucking healthy is leaving my eleven year old sister with a fucking asshole alcoholic who has no fucking problem beating the shit out of little kids!"

"He's not hitting her," She has to be direct because there's no other way to get through to him. "If he was hurting her, she'd _tell _you. And he's not drinking anymore, either, Noah. He's _trying."_

And maybe she's gone too far because he sounds much angrier than he did even a second ago. "How are you fucking taking his side? That is _fucked up, _Rachel."

"I'm _not _taking his side! I just…" She doesn't even know where she's going. "I just hate all of this."

"You think _you _hate it? How do you think my little sister feels?"

There's a part of her who is mad at him for being so mean. That tiny part wants to tell him that Bekah feels just fine and that she's okay and that she doesn't hate her father based purely on the principal that her older brother thinks she should. But that tiny part is not nearly big enough to make her actually do it. Instead, she tries really hard not to cry and tries to diffuse the situation.

"I'm on your side," she says firmly. "I'm _always _going to be on your side."

He stops yelling, and when he speaks again, his voice is quieter and a little less abrasive. "_I _want her," he says quietly. "And that's what my mom would want, too."

And it probably is. Rachel can't help thinking, though, that his mom wouldn't want him to be pushed into growing up so fast and that she wouldn't want him to be forced into giving up his education so that he could raise another person. It just sucks because there's no happy medium. There really _aren't _any other options. His grandmother's too old to take on a child, and there's just not a lot of other family. There's certainly no one close enough who might actually have a chance in a custody battle. It's just terrible, though, because Noah's going to lose something major one way or the other. And it's not fair.

He tells her he loves her before the call ends because he won't hang up the phone without saying it now. She's not sure what that's about, but as a lifelong therapy patient, she thinks he's probably just scared of losing something or someone else suddenly and without warning. In only a couple of years, he's lost a child, a mother, and, in some senses, a sister- all pretty abruptly. She can understand why he's afraid to lose anything else.

They're not totally okay after that. She knows he still feels like she betrayed him in some small semblance just because she tried to say that maybe his father was making an effort. She should be mad that he's mad, but she's not. She just lets him feel however he wants to feel because she knows his go-to defense mechanism is to lash out at the people closest to him. It's something she normally doesn't stand for, but she's giving him more leeway than usual because their current situation is anything but normal. It's one more thing that will eventually have to be addressed, but she can let it slide for now. She's willing to let a _lot _slide right now.

She texts Bekah a few days later, just to say hi and ask how she is. She gets a call in return, and she can tell when she answers that maybe everything's not as fine as she'd like to believe.

"I think Noah's mad at me," she says, once Rachel's picked up and curled under her comforter away from the chill of her dorm room.

"He's not mad at you," Rachel assures her immediately. "He's mad at the situation."

"But it's my fault. I mean, it's _because _of me."

"Bekah, it's _definitely _not your fault. This whole thing is just weird, and he's upset about it, but I promise you, he's not mad at you."

"I fucking hate this!" Rachel's used to the random swearing, and even though she probably shouldn't take it so lightly from an eleven year old, she's heard much worse come out of Bekah's mouth. So she barely notices anymore.

"I know," she says, feeling really awful. "I know it sucks."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to _do!"_

"Bek, you don't have to do anything. Okay? It's not your responsibility."

"It's not Noah's, either."

Rachel closes her eyes. She doesn't feel like this is a conversation that a sixth grader should be forced into having. It makes her feel even worse about the whole situation.

"He's your brother, and he wants to take care of you." She doesn't know what else to say.

"He hates my dad so much…"

Rachel doesn't know where to go with that. _She _has an awful lot of hate for that man, too, knowing everything he's put his family through in the past. Still, she sees where he's making an effort, and while she can never totally put herself in Noah's shoes, she can also understand why he finds it impossible to just forgive and forget. But Bekah is getting to know him for the first time ever really, at least for the first time in her memory. He's her father. And there's a part of Rachel that knows it's unfair to saddle her with preconceived notions based on others' experiences. Especially if this is the man who really _is _going to be taking care of her for the rest of her childhood.

So she just starts as gently as she can. "Noah's angry about a lot of things. But his main concern is you."

"I don't want to be in the middle of this."

And Rachel hates hearing that because she can't even imagine what Bekah must be going through right now. She wishes that none of it were happening, but it is. She hates that Noah's have to deal with all this, too. Between things like life insurance payouts and custody battles and personal injury attorneys practically beating down his door with proposed lawsuits, he doesn't seem anywhere close to eighteen anymore. It's not fair. College was supposed to be _fun. _They were supposed to make new friends and party and just enjoy being away from home for the first time ever.

None of it's working out.

And Rachel's terrified that as precariously as things are resting right now, it's all going to come crashing down in a heartbeat. She's scared to be around when it does.

… … …

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. I'm glad everyone's enjoying the story so far- even if I'm torturing basically everyone involved! The angst will keep coming…


	9. February

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter 8**

**FEBRUARY**

… … ...

February turns out to be the coldest month in decades.

For the first time since being in college, Rachel starts to miss her car. Normally, she loves not having to worry about driving anywhere or deal with gas prices and routine maintenance. When the temperature drops into the single digits and _stays _there, though, she begins to really hate public transportation. She starts wearing three layers of clothing, but even that can't keep her warm as she waits for the bus or walks to the subway. And snow really starts to lose all of its magic when she begins seeing it four times a week or more.

Besides the weather, though, things start feeling a little more normal. She stops stressing out so much about school, accepting the fact that going to every single offered event and class isn't exactly necessary. After all, she can't see any situation where a miming workshop will help her land the role of Fanny Brice in the rumored 2015 Broadway revival of _Funny Girl. _She stops driving herself into the ground and decides to try just enjoying college life for awhile. It's easier to do than she expects, and she starts hanging out with her roommates more often. They go to parties, and she gets drunk a few times. She doesn't go crazy, though. She still makes plenty of time for studying and continues making it to all of her classes on time.

Things at home aren't quite as dramatic, either. Nothing has changed with the custody situation, but Bekah keeps assuring everyone that she's fine, and she honestly seems that way. Her social worker makes regular visits to ensure that she's safe and adjusting appropriately, and she gives weekly updates. Noah still hates it, of course, but he knows that barring a kidnapping and/or murder, there's not a lot that can be done until a court says otherwise. In the meantime, he's started focusing on other things. Since he's not in school, he really has no other option than to get a job. He needs to work anyway, just to keep busy and keep his mind off of Bekah and everything else. It's not ideal, but Breadstix is hiring, and the schedule's pretty flexible. He can't actually wait tables since his hand is still busted, but he somehow manages to make pretty decent tips as a host. Rachel's sure that most of those tips come more from flirting skills than any actual working talent.

But even with the money he makes at the restaurant, there's still no way he can afford the mortgage on the house. The life insurance money could cover some of it, but there's nowhere near enough to actually pay it off or anything. And anyway, Noah's pretty adamant that that money needs to be put away for Bekah and for whatever court costs and legal fees might come out of this whole thing. Some high profile law firm is supposedly filing a lawsuit against the trucking company and the driver and his insurance and anyone else remotely sueable, but that's probably going to take years to actually find any sort of resolution, and Noah doesn't even seem to have that on his radar at all. The only real option, at least in his mind, is to put the house up for sale, so he spends a lot of time getting it ready to go up. Apparently there's a lot more to it than just putting an ad in the real estate listings. Rachel wishes she was there to help, but she knows there's really nothing she can do to help.

Mia breaks up with her boyfriend the first week of February. Her boyfriend, who she's been with for years, cheats on her with a girl he meets at a party. He sleeps with her and calls Mia the next day in tears because a) he cheated and b) they were supposed to be saving themselves for marriage or something. Needless to say, Mia's pretty devastated and can't get out of bed for several days. But then she gets a second wind out of nowhere and decides that she's not going to let her life be ruined over a "cheating piece of shit asshole." And that's that. She's all cured. Rachel has no clue how that works, but she's more than a little jealous.

Her breakup comes just in time for Valentine's Day, which is just as sad and lonely as Rachel expects it to be. She spends the day in vocal rehearsal, and Noah spends it working a double shift at the restaurant. They talk for a few minutes in the morning, and they text off and on whenever he gets a break or things slow down for a second. She wants it to be more than a few quick text messages, though. She wants to be going on a date and getting dressed up for flowers and candy and all the other things she's entitled to have as a girl on February 14th. Truthfully, she's only had flowers and candy once, and that was when she was dating Jesse. She was with Noah the next year, but he just got her drunk and gave her some underwear that ended up on the floor within minutes. She was single last year and only got a couple of half-hearted texts. But even though she's not very used to the traditional Valentine's setup, that doesn't mean that she's not allowed to crave it. And honestly, she'd take underwear on the floor at this point. It might even be preferable.

When she gets home from class, there's a bottle of tequila on the floor and about seven girls sharing it. Since all of her roommates are now officially single, they've apparently decided to throw their own Valentine's party and invite some of the other single girls from their floor. Rachel's pretty much the opposite of single, considering the fact that she's in the most complicated, yet committed, relationship of anyone her age that she knows. Still, though, she's bored, and a little tequila never hurt anyone.

She doesn't overdo it. She only has a few shots, and she definitely doesn't get drunk or anything. Mostly, she just amuses herself by watching other people's drunkenness- specifically Mia who seems especially in a man-hating kind of mood. Around nine, though, Rachel excuses herself from the makeshift party and goes into her bedroom to answer her phone. It's Noah, and she doesn't think she should really take that call in the middle of all the hatred currently brewing in her living room.

"Are you finally off work?" She yawns as she lays down on her bed with the phone to her ear.

"Hell no." He snorts. "We're still packed, and we have reservations until eleven. I'm just on a quick break."

"I bet you're exhausted."

"It's alright. All these douchebags trying to impress their girlfriends keep giving me money trying to get a better table or some shit. It's fucking _Breadstix. _All the tables are shitty."

"At least you're making money."

"Yeah, I made almost two-hundred bucks just in tips so far."

"Really?" She's impressed. "Now you can buy me something." She's teasing, and he knows it.

"I already got you something. You're gonna fucking love it."

"I wish you were here right now, so I could see it."

"Shit. I wish I was there, too. I've been missing you like hell all day."

She likes it when he talks about missing her. Not that she enjoys them being apart, but it's nice to be missed.

"I miss you, too," she says quietly.

His voice drops a little bit, and she can tell he's trying not to be overheard. "Next month, it's fucking _on," _he promises seriously, and she knows what's coming next. He's about three seconds away from going into detail about just how _on _it's going to be when she gets home for spring break. Not too long ago she was opposed to this entire idea, but she's come around a little- mostly because she's convinced herself that there is a verifiable difference between actual phone sex and a little harmless dirty talk.

However, there are a roomful of people on the other side of her door, and he's probably in the breakroom of an extremely crowded restaurant, so it is literally neither the time nor the place.

"Call me when you get home." She says it just suggestively enough so that he knows exactly what she means. It's not difficult for him to deduce anyway, considering he's only got about three levels to his brain anyway, and sex takes up two of them.

Still, because she's bored and has a tiny amount of alcohol in her blood stream, she takes her phone back to the party and sends more than a few texts to keep him plenty distracted for his last couple of hours at the host stand. She figures it's the least she can do.

A few nights later, she goes to see a new show with some of her "friends" from class. She uses the word friends loosely because they're actually her competition. And when they're actually able to audition, she's not going to have time for any sort of friendly exchanges. She doesn't believe in keeping your enemies closer because that just gives them an easier angle to drive a knife into your back.

The show is amazing, and it makes Rachel realize that no matter what's going on at home, she needs to make this happen for herself. She thinks about how close she came to just giving it up, and she loves Noah more than ever for not allowing her to. His future can be right here, too. With her. She lets herself fantasize about a future where he gets Bekah, and they move to New York to be with her. He goes back to school and finishes his education, while Bekah gets to spend her teenage years in the most amazing city in the world. And Rachel lives out her own dreams, performing for sold out audiences eight shows a week. It's a perfect life for the perfect little makeshift family. But Rachel knows better. She knows her life has never been perfect, so she's not going to let herself buy into fantasies about it now. She knows from plenty of experience that wanting things too badly usually only ends to disappointment.

And she can't take anymore disappointment right now.

So she stays realistic. Noah is doing everything he can to fix things at home, so she's going to do everything _she _can to keep things moving in the right direction here. Eventually, this whole thing's going to reach some kind of resolution, and then they'll finally be able to have some kind of normal relationship. She wants it, and she knows he does, too. It's more evident than ever that they're going to really make this work, and she's happier about that than she's been about anything in a really long time.

One night, towards the end of the month, he calls her after midnight, and she can tell that he's either intoxicated or well on his way to being that way. She isn't as displeased as she should be with being woken up to a ringing phone the night before a biology exam. Mia's still not even home yet, and she has no idea about Jessica and Lex. She's guessing that they're probably wherever Mia is, though, since they all went out together. Rachel stayed home to study but ended up passing out before ten o'clock. When she answers the phone, though, she can't help smiling a little.

"I'm supposed to be resting," she tells him matter-of-factly. "I have a test tomorrow."

"What time?"

"1:30."

"So rest in the morning." He says it so simply, and she rolls her eyes.

"I have _class _in the morning."

"So?"

She sighs and buries herself more deeply into her covers. It's freezing outside, and it's freezing in here. She hates the fact that no matter _what _they do, this room never gets warm. Actually, the entire building stays cold most of the time.

"What are you doing?" she asks, even though she already knows the answer.

He's with Finn, though, so that part at least surprises her a little. She's not sure when that whole new alliance came about, but it probably happened some time around his mom's funeral. They're not totally back to normal, but they're friends again. And they're both in Lima with nothing else to do, so it's not really that shocking that they're hanging out again. Rachel thinks it's nice and thinks that maybe they're finally at a point where they can all just put junior year behind them and start acting like adults. Since they _are _adults. Sort of.

She sits on the phone and listens to him have some conversation with Finn about "fucking up my game!" and he better mean video game. She's nearly positive he does, but she still asks for clarification the second he seems to realize she's still on the phone.

"What _game _exactly?"

"COD! This dumbass _sucks _and keeps fucking the whole shit up!"

"Who is that?" She hears Finn's question, and she rolls her eyes and waits impatiently for them to finish having whatever conversation they're having.

"Who the hell do you think it is?"

"Rachel?"

"Damn, you didn't get any smarter after the diploma, did you?"

"Hey! Fuck you." Even Rachel can tell it's a lame comeback.

Still, she's not going to sit around and listen to the two of them talk when she needs to be sleeping. "Are you going to talk to him or to me?" she asks, and she knows the question's dripping attitude, but she really doesn't care.

"To you," he says quickly. She smiles, but it falters a second later when he starts cussing at Finn again and finishes up with, "Let me call you back, Rach."

"I'm going to _bed," _she says pointedly, not even trying to keep the huffiness out of her voice. "Call me tomorrow."

"I love you."

And then she smiles again because even though he always says it now, there's something about the fact that he'll say it in front of her friends that pleases her more than it should.

The next week is crazy.

She has huge exams in nearly all of her classes, so she barely even has time to breathe for all the studying she does. She does alright, though, and she's confident that she's done at least _pretty _well on all the tests. She knows she's even aced a few of them, but she still has second guesses and doubts when it comes to tests and those sorts of things.

She talks to Santana for the first time in what feels like forever. They stay on the phone for almost two hours, mostly because Santana can't stop verbally jumping up and down as she talks about Brittany and the fact that she's made it through the first round of auditions for _So You Think You Can Dance. _She's going to Vegas, and even though Santana's got school and an athletic scholarship, she's determined that she's somehow going with her no matter what. And Rachel's really happy, too, because all Brittany wants to do is dance. If this works out for her, she'll at least have a leg up in the business and might have better success than she's found so far in her months as a Los Angeles resident.

Then they talk about Noah, and it's nice that Santana is seriously legitimately concerned because she's never really been one to use her "nice voice" when discussing him. In fact, she's told Rachel numerous times that he's an asshole and that he can't be trusted and a bunch of other stuff that all girls like to say about guys they used to really be into. But even still, Santana's one of his best friends- even if neither of them will ever come _close _to admitting that. They get along just fine when they want to (and sometimes better than fine because they're so much alike and both encourage and bring out the worst in each other, which is never really a good thing, but it keeps them both highly amused).

But Santana's concerned, which is saying a lot because Santana rarely gets concerned about anything that doesn't directly relate to herself. She's talked to Noah a couple of times, and she tells Rachel she thinks he seems different. He _is _different. He's been through a major tragedy and isn't even close to being over it. He's having to do things people twice his age struggle with, and he's had to grow up really quickly. He was always a little more grown up than everyone else, but now it's more evident than ever. Even though it's still offset a little by a tiny strain of teenage boy immaturity, he's not even anything _close _to a child anymore. Rachel's never known him to be innocent (not even when they were little and actually _were _innocent), but she misses that part of him that wasn't totally raddled with thoughts of funerals and life insurance and custody battles and a level of intense hatred and anger that can in no way be described as remotely healthy.

So Rachel _tells _Santana that, and then she feels like she's betraying Noah's confidence or something, but she really, really just wants to talk about it. Santana _knows _him, and Rachel really doesn't think she's going to go blabbing, not about this. She won't even mention it to Noah because she understands that sometimes things are serious, and this is one of those things. But she can be a good listener when she wants to, and Rachel really just needs someone to listen. She can talk to her roommates, but it's not like they can give her much feedback, seeing as how they've only met him a few times and definitely don't know him well enough to make any kind of judgment call on what's healthy for him and what's just downright destructive. She would talk to her dads, but she doesn't want to bring it up with them. They've done a lot for Noah, but they are the type of people who would try to order him into therapy or something if she told them half the things he's said over the past couple of months. And even though he respects them and does what they ask the majority of the time, he wouldn't take too kindly to be told he needs to see a psychiatrist. So it's best to just keep as much of it under the surface as possible.

But Santana's different because one thing Santana is _not _is judgmental. Well, that's a lie because she's totally judgmental when it comes to superficial things like clothing and social status, but she's not judgmental about things like this. She never looks at something someone does and automatically deem that person terrible. Unless they happen to get pregnant by her boyfriend, and then she deems them a slut for all eternity, but that's Quinn, and Quinn is the exception. But she's not judgey when it comes to Noah, mostly because no matter what he does, she can justify it in her head and make sense of it. It comes from them being so closely related in everything they do. If he steals something, she'd steal it, too. If he gets in a fight, she would definitely throw in a punch. It's not exactly the smartest or safest relationship, but at least it's well-balanced.

"Look," Santana says flatly after Rachel's confessed to being scared to death that he's going to end up doing something really dumb and get himself into major trouble, "Puck's an idiot, but he's not like stupid, okay? He's impulsive, yeah, but he can reign it in when he needs to. And he's not going to fuck up his only chance of getting his sister by doing something totally brain dead."

"But he's so _angry."_

"Well, duh." Santana sighs loudly. "He _hates _his dad, and he has for like forever how long I've known him. And personally, I think he should go kick that bastard's ass, but he knows that's a stupid idea. He's not retarded."

Sometimes she trusts Santana's opinion more than she trusts her own. It's not that she thinks Santana necessarily knows Noah _better _than she does, but she's known him _longer _(technically, Rachel's known him since the day he was born, but she hardly counts it since they probably exchanged less than fifty words for the first sixteen years of their lives). But Santana _knows _him. She knows what he's thinking, and she knows why he does stuff. For the most part. So Rachel trusts her.

And she's glad she's got that knowledge two days later when Noah calls her freaking out because his father's taken Bekah to visit his aunt in Indianapolis. Apparently this is a major wrongdoing, and he wastes absolutely no time going off about it.

"That bitch doesn't give a shit about us, either!" he snaps hatefully. "The last time I saw her, I was like nine years old. She never even fucking sent a _birthday card _after her asshole of a brother decided to abandon us."

Rachel doesn't know what to say to that. She's not surprised because she's well-aware of the fact that they have no relationship with _anyone _on the Puckerman side. The grandparents are both dead, and even though there are apparently two uncles, an aunt, and several cousins, Noah and Bekah don't have contact with any of them. Or at least they didn't until now. Now apparently Bekah's going to be reintroduced to family she's never really known. It actually makes Rachel angry, too, because it seems like just one more person showing up out of the blue and disrupting their lives. She doesn't get why someone would walk away from kids for years and then think it was appropriate to just show back up, but apparently a lot of people employ that philosophy because she's seeing entirely too much of it.

Still, she can't encourage Noah and feed into his anger.

"Is it legal for him to take her out of the state if he doesn't even have full custody?" She asks because it will get his mind off of murder and possibly get him to talk about something rationally. Or maybe it won't.

"Apparently he can do whatever the fuck he wants. He just has to tell that dumb bitch social worker, and she just lets him go do any fucking thing."

"How long are they going to be gone?"

"Like for four days or something. He's took her out of school!"

Rachel doesn't really approve of that, but she's not naïve enough to think that Noah actually has issue with Bekah missing school. He has issue with his _father _deciding Bekah should miss school.

"And my dad said all that was okay?"

"He said as long as the state doesn't care, then he can do pretty much anything."

"That's bullshit."

"_Thank you!" _He sounds exasperated. "This whole fucking _thing _is bullshit!"

Rachel agrees, but she knows she needs to redirect the conversation. "Well, she'll be home in a few days. Just call her a lot and keep up with her. Make sure she's doing okay and everything."

"She won't be _home," _he corrects her flatly. "She'll be with _him."_

Rachel should have guessed that response, but she just shakes her head despite the fact that he can't see her. "She'll be home _soon." _Even she doesn't believe it, though. She's beginning to lose most of the hope she had in this situation. It makes her feel nauseous.

It all still seems totally unreal. She wonders if that's ever going to change.

… … …

A/N: I know this one had less overall action, but things eventually start going back to a little bit of normalcy. Next up is spring break, though, so actual plot points that don't take place via telephone just might happen!


	10. March

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter 9**

**MARCH**

… … …

March really means one thing to Rachel- spring break.

It doesn't happen until the third week, but she spends nearly the entire first two weeks waiting for it. She's not the only one, of course. Everyone she knows is counting down the days, and she expects that most college students across the country are doing the same thing. She's always imagined college spring break to be some big giant tropical orgy complete with binge drinking and an outbreak of STDs. Her preconception probably comes from the fact that her knowledge of spring break is limited to MTV, and she doesn't think they go out of their way to pick the classiest people to put on their programs. In reality, though, she actually only knows of two people who are going _on _spring break. The rest of her friends are all just going home, though she hears about twelve different people say they're all _definitely _going to Cancun next year. Rachel doesn't care, though. She's been to Cancun twice, and both times, she's ended up with a terrible stomach virus. Of course, she might not care about the stomach virus so much if she's with her friends and partying and having fun, rather than waiting until the afternoon for her fathers to take her to the beach and then spending the evenings at various restaurants with menus she can't pronounce.

Either way, though, it doesn't matter this year. She's going to Lima, and she doesn't want to be going anywhere else. She feels like she's been away from home for years instead of just a couple of months. She wants to see Noah and Bekah and her parents and maybe Finn or anyone else who happens to be around. Absence apparently really does make the heart grow fonder because she can't really remember why she was so dead set on getting away from everything and everyone as quickly as possible. Notre Dame's spring break is the same week as NYU's, so Santana's coming home, too, which is great because Rachel's only seen her once briefly since before they all moved away last fall. She's shocked that Santana isn't on a plane to Cancun herself, but when she says this, Santana tells her to stop being racist. She's joking, of course, but she doesn't really give an actual explanation as to why she's not off to the beach with the rest of the spring breakers.

Rachel makes it through a week's worth of midterms and doesn't kill over. She doesn't stress out a ton because she's been going to class and doing her work, and she's not having many problems in any of her classes. She's actually doing really well, so the tests don't freak her out as much as they normally might. The same can't be said for her roommates, all of whom spend the week before break acting like they're being murdered by being forced to take tests. Rachel tells them in a not-so-helpful sort of voice that if they spent more time at home and less time at parties, they might not be so stressed right now. Mia laughs at her, but it's Lexi who actually takes her seriously and gets offended. She flips on her bitch switch (_definitely _a Santana term) and asks Rachel who made her "so goddamn perfect." And Rachel, because the filter on her mouth malfunctions rather frequently, says, "Science. Intrauterine insemination to be exact," and then she feels bad because Mia laughs even harder and Jessica can't keep a straight face, either, which just makes Lexi even madder.

But whatever. She asked.

When the last day of classes finally arrives, Rachel packs her bag in the morning and has it ready to go for as soon as she's out of class. She's got a pretty late flight scheduled, but with everyone leaving for break (and even more people _coming _for break), she knows the airport's going to be hell. She really has no desire to break her neck trying to get through check-in and security, so she plans to leave as soon as she can. Ideally, she wants to carry on the tradition of sharing a cab to the airport with Jessica and having someone to wait with in the lines, but she's already told her that if she gets done early, she's leaving early.

She doesn't get done early, though. Her professor is probably the only one in the entire _school _who holds class that day until the very last _second. _Her name is Dr. Dalton, but Rachel's seriously considering switching to the Dr. Satan name she's heard tossed around pretty regularly from various members of her class. Speaking of her class, only about a quarter of them are actually here, so it makes even less sense that the dismissal doesn't come until 3:25 on the dot. Surprisingly (or not so surprisingly, really, since procrastination seems to be a theme in her room), Jessica is still there and packing when Rachel makes it back from class. It's not a bad thing, though, because Rachel _hates _waiting around at the airport by herself. Neither of them have flights until close to seven, so once they get through security, at least they can hang out and keep each other company before heading off to their terminals. She wishes they could actually make the _flight _together.

The airport is just as stupid as Rachel imagines it will be. It's so crowded that she has to keep a constant eye on Jessica just to make sure they don't get separated. They split up for check in, but then they meet up again before going to get in the massive security line. And seriously, Rachel knows all of this is for her own safety, but she's starting to think that TSA is going a little overboard. And she's _highly _offended when some random security agent actually _gropes _her like she's carrying a bomb in her bra or something. Please. Her breasts aren't that big.

She's exhausted by the time she's on the plane even though it's still early in the evening. She wants to nap, but she's never been able to successfully sleep on a plane. Not in coach anyway. There have been occasions when she's traveled in business class with her parents, though, that she's managed to nap. Stuck between a five year old little boy and a largely overweight woman, though? That's not going to happen.

Noah picks her up, and she's happy because he didn't know if he was going to get off work in time. She jumps on him when she makes it to the baggage terminal because she's happy to see him, happy to be home, happy to be on break, just happy in general. She's glad he's got muscle because he catches her easily and doesn't fall down from her dead weight or anything like that. He's happy to see her, too, she knows, and she can tell by the way he hugs her much longer than usual. She doesn't mind one bit, and it isn't until she catches glimpse of her luggage coming down the conveyer that she pulls herself away and runs over to grab it before it enters the circle again. Or at least she _tries _to grab it. Noah gets it for her because he likes to be a gentleman on occasion. On rare days when he's trying to get something anyway.

He says he wants to take her to his house, but she tells him that she has to go home and see her dads, and even though he already knew this, he still acts like she's torturing him or something. She knows it's just because he's sexually frustrated and wants to make good on all the things he's promised to do to her over the last two months that they've been apart. She wants that, too, but she has enough decency intact to realize that she doesn't have to act like some sex-starved whore. She needs to go see her parents, _wants _to see her parents, and she knows that he's perfectly well aware of this.

She doesn't encourage him on the way home, keeping his free hand pressed tightly between both of her own so that it can't start wandering and get her distracted or result in them both dying or something. She cringes at that thought, though, because even in jest, she can't find anything humorous about potential car fatalities anymore. So she scratches that and makes sure her mouth doesn't start speaking without her brain's permission. Instead, she talks his ear off the whole way home, telling him things she's told him a million times before.

They go into see her parents, and he plays nice and doesn't act like a six year old being asked to wait his turn. She's proud of him for that because with all of the eye-rolling and general huffiness she just experienced in the car, she was expecting something just shy of a full-blown temper tantrum. She's thankful she gets a little bit of impulse control and maturity instead.

When they get back to his house (she feeds her father some excuse about needing to help clean for an upcoming real estate showing- they don't believe a word of it but don't call her on it...), she gives in and lets him make good on all those promises. And really, it's not like she minds in the least. She actually loves it, and he feels so _good _that she has no other choice but to tell him. In those exact words. And he tells her, "Don't say shit like that unless you want me to fuck this up," in a very warning sort of voice. And since he never, ever gives warnings like that, she shuts her mouth because maybe it's a lot more serious than she thought.

But he doesn't fuck it up or anything close, and it's great and perfect and makes the hundreds of miles between Lima and New York City seem like a really stupid idea. And she doesn't accomplish anything _near _straightening up the house even though the downstairs is an absolute disaster. His room is clean, though. She thinks he did that for her, and it's cute. But if he left the downstairs a wreck thinking she'd clean it, he really needs to keep his hands to himself because he's making it really difficult to get out of bed.

She goes to a "party" on Tuesday night, and she says "party" because there are really only a handful of people there, and they're all down in Mike's basement watching some stupid action movie that Rachel hates on principle because Tom Cruise is the star. She came with Santana who is claiming the get-together as her birthday party despite the fact that there are literally six people there, no one has presents, and her birthday is still three weeks away. It's okay, though. Rachel didn't really want to come, but it's not so bad. It's just some glee kids, but now that they're out of school and out of glee, some of the animosity seems to be gone.

They're supposedly watching this movie, but the tequila shots keep getting in the way. And even though Rachel has an image to keep up with most of these people, she's not going to pass up a chance to actually have _fun _without having to worry about getting up for class the next day. Besides, she can tolerate most of the people here. It's not so bad. She's waiting for Noah, though, and if he doesn't get off work soon, she's going to be really pissed.

Santana tells them all again for the millionth time about Brittany and _So You Think You Can Dance, _and even though they've all heard it (multiple times) before, everyone's still really happy about it. Rachel wishes Brittany was home right now because she misses her, but she knows it's not logical to fly all the way back from LA just because a few people are home for spring break.

She gets talked into playing some stupid drinking game that involves cards and rules she doesn't fully understand. That's not good because it means she ends up drinking a lot more than she should. She focuses on staying coherent, though, because she doesn't want to end up fully wasted or anything like that. Even with Santana here, she doesn't really like the idea of being completely drunk. That doesn't stop everyone shoving shots at her, though, but she spaces them out even though Artie tells her that's against the rules. She doesn't really give a shit because she is _not _going to end up puking in the Changs' downstairs toilet.

Noah finally shows up, and everyone is momentarily cheered up by the presence of a new face. Besides Finn and herself, no one else has really seen much of him since before school started.

She can tell it's going to be weird, though. Everyone feels sorry for him, and he's going to hate it if they treat him like some fragile sort of thing. He can sense it, but she can tell he's purposely ignoring it. Instead, he throws a take-out bag from the restaurant at Santana and says, "Here. Feliz navidad."

And Rachel's glad that Santana knows him well enough to know that he doesn't want any kind of sympathy. So she just puts on her best bitch face and corrects him. "Feliz navidad is Merry Christmas, asshole. If you're gonna be racist, you shouldn't've skipped so much fucking Spanish."

Noah rolls his eyes at her and drops onto an empty space on the sofa behind Rachel. Santana must be on a racist kick because it's the second time she's made the (sarcastic) accusation this week, and it's ironic because barring uno, dos, tres... Feliz navidad is probably the only Spanish Santana knows- and she probably only knows _that _from the song. But then she opens up the bag and sees what Rachel can only guess is a sackful of Breadstix's breadsticks, and she jumps up from her place on the floor excitedly.

"I knew you were my favorite ex-boyfriend for a reason!"

And then she proceeds to drop right into his lap, wrap both arms around his neck, and kiss his cheek in a totally over-exaggerated way. Rachel dips her head backwards and looks up to watch, and she should probably be more concerned than she really is. But it's Santana. And that might be the dumbest thought to ever pass through her head, especially considering the ridiculous amount (_embarrassing amount) _of history being tossed around here, but she knows nothing's going on there but some intentional annoying. And also maybe a little appreciation for the only birthday present brought to the party. Santana _really _likes those breadsticks.

They keep playing the drinking game, and Rachel keeps losing until finally Noah tells her she can't play anymore. She's just teetering on that point of being too drunk to understand and snapping at him that he can't tell her what to do and that she will make her own decisions. But she's just on this side of sanity to know that he's definitely smarter than she is right now. So she agrees with him and drops out of the game. Not that it matters because she still doesn't know what the hell they're playing anyway. Whatever it is, though, Noah's really good at it, so she focuses on watching him win. Or she guesses he's winning. Everyone else is drinking besides him.

Santana pulls out of the game, too, and says she's bored. Rachel knows she's just doing it because she wants to eat her breadsticks and gossip. Tina drops out a couple of rounds later, too, citing some sort of girl solidarity or something. Santana offers her half a breadstick (she's not _that _generous), and they sit on the floor away from the table where the guys are now battling it out to see who can stay in the longest. Or something. Rachel really has no idea.

But it's Tina who brings up the elephant in the room, and she lowers her voice so as not to be overheard. "So how's Puck?" she asks quietly, and Santana doesn't say anything but keeps munching silently on her birthday present.

Rachel just shrugs. "He's okay."

"I heard about his dad. That's _crazy."_

Rachel wants to ask where she heard it because she wants reroute the glee gossip train right off a cliff, but then she realizes she's drunk and that she's just being mentally belligerent because the alcohol's allowing it. Maybe the "gossip" is just harmless. Or maybe it's based on actual concern. But there's a good chance it's just gossip, and Rachel feels a little too protective to have that conversation.

"He's fine," she says again. And she doesn't really know what's so damn hard to comprehend about that. "I mean, you can see him right over there. He's fine."

And Tina looks a little taken aback, so Rachel's probably being more abrasive than she needs to be. She's possibly being a downright bitch, but since Santana has the corner market on that title and is too enthused with what might be the first carbs she's had since starting college, she's got no one to talk her back from the edge.

"Okay," Tina says quietly. "I was just wondering."

"Well, I already told you. Everything in the world went to shit, but he didn't lay down and stop breathing because of it."

And seriously, she can hear herself. She just can't stop herself.

Tina's apparently had too much of it herself because she gets an attitude right back. "Sorry, I'll make sure to let everyone know not to show any concern around you," and she's more hateful than she has to be. "I didn't realize updating his friends would be such a freaking hardship for you."

And that's when Rachel just loses it, and she blames ninety percent of it on alcohol, eight percent on PMS, and the other two percent on having approximately zero nerves left in her system. "Right," she says rolling her eyes. "_Who _are his friends? Santana and me? Finn? Who else?"

"Why are you being such a bitch?" Tina asks, and Rachel's furious that she's just been called a bitch, so she doesn't back down even a little bit. Even though she kind of knows she's being crazy.

"If you're supposed to be his damn friend, where were you when his mom was being buried?" she snaps meanly.

"I was in _school, _Rachel."

"I was in school, too! But I still made it!"

"Hey, calm the crazy," Santana says lazily, and she kicks at Rachel's knee with her socked foot. "Reel it in a few inches."

Rachel ignores her, and so does Tina who counters Rachel's argument with, "You're his girlfriend!"

"So?"

"So you _have _to be there."

"So what?"

And Tina just looks totally confused. Rachel can't blame her because she can't even really remember what they're arguing over. Apparently their voices are getting too loud because the guys are looking over, and obviously it's not going to take long to figure out what they're arguing about. But the basement's pretty big, and the television is still blaring with random explosions, so maybe they can't hear all of it. Rachel knows she just needs to shut up, but she can't. And that's why she hates alcohol.

"Look Rachel, I was just asking a question. Everyone's been worried about him." And maybe Tina's trying to get control of the situation and calm it back down, but Rachel just hears it as an excuse for why none of them showed up to the funeral and only a couple have even called.

"All you want to do is find out some gossip, so you can go back and spread it to everyone else who doesn't give a damn," she snaps rudely. "But he doesn't need your stupid fake concern."

"_Rachel." _And Santana's given up on the carbs long enough to give her a very pointed kind of look that is clearly screaming for her to . But even though Rachel can read it easily, she can't make herself obey it.

And really, she doesn't know why her eyes are watering or why she's about to start crying. Santana's still giving her that look, and Tina's staring at her like she doesn't know _what _to say, and Rachel just has no idea about anything that's going on because she feels like she's stuck in someone else's body or something. This is not who she is, and it's not who she wants to be. She really has no idea why she's being so mean _or _why she's so upset. But then the tears start, and hates it.

"What did you _do _to her?" Noah's over there now, looking accusingly at Tina who still looks confused but not enough to be defenseless.

"I didn't do anything!"

"She didn't do anything," Santana confirms, and Rachel wonders if she should feel betrayed or not. But it's not like it's a lie. Rachel herself knows that.

Noah's confused, too, and maybe they should all just start a damn club or something. But Rachel's crying, and she doesn't say anything to defend Tina or herself. She just lets herself be pulled into a standing position and tries really hard not to puke at the sudden movement. She had no idea she was _this _drunk. She hates liquor because she never knows how drunk she is until _after _she's finished drinking. Even though beer is disgusting, at least she knows when she's getting drunk _while _it's happening. Maybe she just shouldn't drink at all.

Luckily, Noah seems to realize just how drunk she is, so he doesn't let her fall over or anything. He keeps one arm around her waist to keep her in a standing position while he gets their jackets, and then he yells over his shoulder at the guys that he'll call them later. He ignores Tina and sort of glares a little bit at Santana who just rolls her eyes and starts on a new breadstick. They make it up the stairs somehow- Rachel's pretty sure that he ends up carrying her about halfway up because she doesn't think her legs are working that well.

She feels really sick, and it must be evident because the first thing she hears when they get outside is, "You gonna puke in my truck?"

And she just shakes her head because she's not, but she can't bring herself to actually form words or anything. She's pouting, and she knows it. She just doesn't know why exactly.

"Come on," he says, opening the passenger side door before he actually picks her up and sets her into the cab. She feels better sitting down, but she's not sure about the elevation. He leans across her and buckles her in before putting one hand on either side of her hips and looking at her seriously. "Don't puke."

He shuts the door, and she leans her head against the window as he goes around to the other side and starts the ignition. It's not the newest model, so there's a vibration with the engine that does really bad things to her stomach and head. She just closes her eyes and tries not to focus on it as she feels them backing down the driveway and turning onto the main road.

"You coming home with me?" he asks, and she doesn't open her eyes to nod. She was planning on going home with him anyway, but there's no way she's going anywhere _near _her dads with this much alcohol in her system. "What's wrong, Rach?" he asks a second later, and she doesn't really mean to start crying again.

He doesn't say anything about it. He just keeps one hand on the wheel and uses the other to reach over and push some of the hair away from her neck so that he can rub it gently. She bites down on her lip and tries to stop the irrational tears, but it's difficult.

"I'm drunk," she mutters, still refusing to open her eyes, and she hears him laugh because obviously he already knew that and obviously it's amusing to him. She doesn't know why, though. But he leans over anyway and kisses the side of her forehead, and even though she can't force her eyes open, she feels a little better.

She wakes up to a totally pitch black room and a blinding headache.

She _hates _hangovers. It's even worse when she can't vomit, and she can tell from the empty feeling in her stomach that she's not going to be vomiting today. She's just going to have one of those terrible headaches that burns all the way to the back of her eyeballs. Her mouth is incredibly dry, and she feels like she's swallowing balls of cotton. Forcing herself to not pass out or do something equally dramatic, she carefully gets out of bed and goes to the bathroom. She wishes there was one attached to the bedroom, but there's not. She's got to walk all the way down the hall, and her legs still feel pretty weak.

She has no recollection of even getting into the house, much less going to bed. She either blacked out or was asleep the whole time, but she's wearing some McKinley baseball shirt that doesn't belong to her, so she's going to assume she didn't dress herself. She feels seriously ill, and she sees herself in the mirror and knows she looks like shit. She pees forever and tries really hard not to fall back to sleep on the toilet. Then she washes her face, thinking that it might make her feel at least a _little _bit better. It doesn't really, but it snaps enough sense into her so that she's able to make it back to bed without falling over. Noah's sleeping like a rock and doesn't so much as flinch when she climbs back into bed.

He's still sleeping that way the next time she wakes up. It's daylight this time, and the light doesn't help her head. Neither does the girl coming through the bedroom door with a tray of Starbucks and a very loud, "Hey, thanks for bailing on my birthday party! Whore."

Rachel doesn't know what Santana's doing here or even how she got in. She just lifts her head and says nothing as Santana drops the coffees onto the nightstand and climbs right into bed and under the covers.

"You better not be naked," she warns, and Rachel's not but she honestly has no idea about the other occupant.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, moving over to give Santana more room to pull the comforter up to her neck. Her back hits Noah, and at least she's now confident that he's got underwear on.

"Well, since you _abandoned _me," Santana says dramatically, "I thought I would repay the favor by coming over and bugging the shit out of you while you're hungover."

Noah finally wakes up, and when he hears Santana's voice, he lifts his head and looks over Rachel to confirm. "Is she really here?" he asks sleepily. "Is this really happening? Or is this a dream?"

Rachel is coherent enough to know that if she lets him complete that thought, they'll end up broken up within a matter of minutes. So she just reaches over her shoulder and puts a hand over his mouth, effectively shutting him up. She shakes her head in warning, and he seems to wake up enough to know that he needs to stop while he's ahead.

Santana ignores the exchange and instead sits up and starts handing out the coffee. She passes one to Noah, one to Rachel, and takes the best looking one for herself. "You owe me eight bucks," she says, blowing a little bit on her steam.

"How did you get in here?" Noah sits up, and while Rachel's glad he's not totally naked, he's not really leaving much to the imagination. Not that Santana hasn't seen it all before... And she reminds them of that fact a second later when she answers.

"I've been sneaking into your house since I was like thirteen. No one's ever moved the key."

"Yeah, remind me to do that." Noah takes the lid off his drink and doesn't bother cooling it at all before taking a big drink. "That's like breaking and entering or something. Illegal and shit."

"Oh, call the cops." Santana rolls her eyes. "Make sure to tell them your nineteen year old girlfriend is still so drunk she can't sit up."

Noah breaks a grin at that, but Rachel takes offense and intends to prove them both wrong by sitting up just fine. When she moves, though, her whole brain feels like it rattles, and she squeezes her eyes shut before she can successfully prove her point. She doubts she's still actually drunk, but she's going to be feeling it for awhile.

They all sit there and sip their coffee in silence. Rachel feels like there's something inherently weird about this. But it's also sort of normal. As normal as any situation can be where you find yourself in bed between your boyfriend and your best friend. Who also happen to be exes. But it's not _that _weird.

It gets slightly weirder when Santana says, "I made out with Finn last night."

Rachel doesn't know what to say to that, so she takes a long drink from her coffee and says nothing. It's Noah who comments, and if she didn't think laughing would hurt her head worse, she might find it amusing.

"Thank god. He's hard up, but all the girls around here are younger, so he's been freaking out about like going to jail and shit."

"I didn't have sex with him," Santana clarifies immediately. "I was bored because you guys left me there in the loser factory."

"Do you like him?" Rachel thinks it's an innocent question, but the look of horror that Santana gives her is enough to answer. She's not really sure how she would feel about it if the answer to that question were _yes, _but she doesn't think she mind _that _much. No need to worry, though...

"Do I like _Finn Hudson? _Um, do you know how many soon-to-be-pro football players I can hook up with like any day of the fucking week?"

Rachel doesn't really, but she guesses it must be a lot by the way Santana's still staring at her like a creature with two heads.

"Is that your new life goal?" Noah asks. He turns his head, and Santana glares at him. "To be an NFL slut?"

"First of all, don't call me a slut. Second of all, they have a reality show. And do you _know _how much those bitches get paid in child support? A fucking _lot."_

Rachel wants to be amused, but she knows deep down that there is a major part of Santana that is dead serious. And it's even worse because Rachel can see it happening all too easily... Noah seems bored with that part of the conversation, though, and rolls his eyes as he sets his coffee on the table and turns back to them.

"So? We having that threesome or not?"

Santana snorts, and Rachel just huffs loudly before she pushes the comforter all the way down the bed and slides off the front. "I'm going to take a shower," she announces to neither of them in particular. She's glad she's not the one who suffers from impulse control because otherwise, she might be going to jail for murder.

Still, it's nice to be momentarily normal.

Sometimes she still can't believe she calls _that _normal.

… … ….

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! This chapter came quickly. Hopefully the next one won't take too long, either.


	11. April

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter 10**

**APRIL**

… … …

Rachel has always hated the rain.

She feels like it's in direct opposition of everything she's trying to accomplish with her attitude. Although some might disagree, she thinks of herself as a fairly optimistic, bright person. She tries to look past bad things and see good things. It takes a great deal of talent in the art of denial to be able to accomplish this successfully, but she is certainly up to the challenge. If she weren't able to submerge herself in at least some level of denial, she would never have survived childhood, and she certainly wouldn't have survived high school. But every time she saw less than flattering drawings of herself on the bathroom walls or felt the sting of syrupy ice in her eyes, she put herself in another situation. In her mind, she would be accepting a Tony or signing copies of her CD to a line five blocks long outside of the Virgin Megastore in Times Square. But then the Virgin Megastore closed, and so did a little bit of her optimism. Still, though, she tries. She really, really tries ninety-five percent of the time just to be positive.

But rain doesn't help that.

Rain is ugly. It's cold and it's dark and it's overall extremely gloomy. It feels unnecessarily angsty, and she doesn't particularly see a need in her life for excess angst. She has a full course load, she has tons of competition constantly biting at her heels, and if school weren't enough, she has a boyfriend with the most dramatic life she's witnessed outside of a movie theatre or a Broadway stage. So she has plenty of angst in her own life. She doesn't need it pouring from the sky and making her hair frizz.

She gets a rude awakening one day in class when she's doing a read-through with her partner of a play she's unfamiliar with. It's just a staging exercise, but she puts as much of herself into the role as possible, simply because she knows she needs to always be prepared in this world. She constantly has to be _on. _And even though she's not familiar with the work, she thinks she understands the character well enough to do a passable job of expressing the pain of a young woman in Texas who suffers a miscarriage and can't accept the reality.

Apparently, though, she is very wrong.

Not only is her accent apparently "over-the-top and slightly offensive," her professor makes an off-handed comment and says, "You're lucky to have that voice."

And Rachel, of course, can't just let it go like she knows she should. She wants to know exactly what he means by that, and she wants him to tell her. She is (well, her dads are) paying many thousands of dollars for her to have this education, and she feels that that money entitles her to more than passing comments muttered as the next two students are called up to stage.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" she asks, knowing in the back of her mind that she needs to sit down and shut up. She rarely listens to that part of her mind.

Her professor, who is clearly not used to being questioned, stops his paper-shuffling momentarily and looks at her. "Your singing talent is remarkable," he says, and his voice is calm and even. "Your acting, however, leaves quite a bit to be desired."

And Rachel honestly feels like someone's slapped her.

It's not as if she's never been criticized in her life. She's received plenty of criticism- she just generally ignores it. People are jealous of her, and they have been her entire life. She is talented, and she knows it. People who are less talented and jealous enjoy criticizing. So she ignores it because it's simply not true.

This, though? She doesn't know what to do with this.

She blinks as she stands in the center of the makeshift stage and stares at her professor. No one else is saying anything, and she's sure they're just dying to watch someone have their ass handed to them. Rachel hates to admit it, but she would probably be just as interested if the tables were turned elsewhere. As it is, though, _she's _the one potentially about to be ripped in half by an overly important college professor.

"I've been in acting classes since I was in preschool."

Rachel has no idea why she says it. She knows she _shouldn't _say it. But her brain just likes to work by itself, and she should really look into getting that fixed.

Her professor stares back at her, and Rachel wonders if he's going to kick her out. He doesn't. He just slaps her down a few thousand notches. "Well," he says, and there's a hint of smugness there, "this is the real world. Not fuck-nowhere Iowa."

"I'm from Ohio," she corrects him, and she hears someone laugh. She doesn't know what's so funny.

All she gets in response is a, "Congratulations."

Rachel just continues to stare at him, a million things floating through her head but no real way to put them into words- at least not words appropriate enough for a professor. He might have just used the F word when speaking to her, but she has a feeling that things wouldn't be quite as well-received if she were to start swearing herself.

By the time she gets back to her room, she's become obsessed. She can't stop thinking about it, and she's going to drive herself crazy. She can't figure out what is left to be desired by her acting. She knows everything there is to know about voice projection and facial expression and everything else that she's learned in her hundreds of acting classes. No one has ever accused her of being _bad, _and if it's true- if it's _true- _she'll have to reconsider everything she thought she ever knew about herself.

She manages to keep it together around her roommates, though they all ask her what's wrong and if something happened. She knows they'll just make fun of her (either to her face or behind her back) if she admits what has her upset. So she just lies and says she's fine and that her stomach's just upset. Lexi tells her she's probably pregnant, and Rachel rolls her eyes and wonders how difficult it would be to cover up a murder with three accomplices. She's pretty sure she could get Mia and Jessica on board.

Regardless, the fake stomach ache/pregnancy makes it easy to get out of going to the dining hall. Rachel's honestly not sure she could handle another night of dinner rolls and the less than fresh salad bar, so she's not that disappointed. She hasn't been alone more than ten minutes when her phone rings, and she knows it's Noah without looking. He usually always calls around this time if he's working night shift because he's just getting his break. She normally answers, but sometimes she lets it go to voicemail and he knows she's at dinner. She answers it tonight, though, and almost immediately bursts into tears.

He sounds confused at first (and maybe also worried). Rachel wonders what the hell is wrong with her emotions and panics for a second, wondering if Lexi might be right. But then she remembers that she fabricated the nausea and calms down. Her emotions, she knows, are out of whack because she's not only constantly on edge, but also completely unable to take real criticism in any form. She launches into an immediate freak-out about how she's not good enough and is clearly headed straight down the road of failure. She cries the whole time and says she doesn't know why she ever thought she could make this happen and that she's just destined to end up singing on a cruise ship.

He interrupts her after about five minutes and says, "Rach, I'm coming to see you next weekend."

That shuts her up because it's the first she's heard about that. They don't have any plans for this month because trips between Lima and New York aren't exactly cheap, and she'll be going home for the summer next month. Still, next month sounds really, really far away, and next weekend sounds like a much better option.

"It's your birthday," she says, smiling because she's suddenly in a much better mood and doesn't feel the need to cry anymore.

"Yeah, and I don't have anything to do, so I bought a plane ticket."

His birthday is Friday, and while she's already ordered a present, she's been anticipating one more sad, lonely birthday to add to the list. Her own this year was the most depressing she's ever experienced, and that includes the one that she spent in jail. But things aren't quite as sad and depressing as they were in December, so maybe they can finally have a good day for once.

She spends the next weekend making sure things are going to be perfect. Or as perfect as she can manage anyway. She spends way too much money on a hotel room and knows that her entire spending budget for the rest of the school year is going to be basically nonexistent, but it's worth it. He's worth it. They don't ever get to see each other, and she just wants him to have something nice for once. Maybe she can get him to stop being so depressed for a couple of days. If she can get him to (genuinely) smile, it'll all be worth it.

She skips her Friday afternoon class, showers, puts on new underwear, and spends two hours doing her hair. Maybe it's overkill, but she likes to do things the right way, and birthday seduction isn't something she's necessarily got a _ton _of experience with. She figures it can't be _that _hard, though. Not when she knows what she's dealing with anyway, and it's definitely not as if he's that difficult to figure out.

But things don't really happen the way she plans...

He's not in the best mood, and she can tell that the second he shows up downstairs in her dormitory. She takes him up to her room and is surprised when he doesn't immediately try to take her clothes off. She doesn't _want _him to because two of her roommates are there and because they have dinner reservations in less than an hour, but it still sort of annoys her that he doesn't even _try. _She hasn't seen him in a month. He should be trying to get her naked, and the fact that he's not bothers her a little bit. He _does _make out with her a little, mostly because she sits in his lap and forces him into it, but he doesn't sound bothered or try to talk her out of it when she stops and says they have to leave for dinner.

He stays distracted the whole time they're in the cab and the whole time they're waiting for their table. He barely talks to her, and when he does, it's usually just because she's literally asking him questions and he has no choice but to respond. Finally, she actually gets mad and comes right out and tells him.

"Oh, my god, what the hell is wrong with you?"

He stares at her for a second and then says, "You sound too much like Santana."

"Noah."

Then he sighs a little bit and shrugs. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just tired."

"I'm really trying here." She hates that she says it out loud because it sounds lame and pathetic, but it's the truth. It seems to get to him as well because he looks a little bit sorry.

"I know. It's great." He probably couldn't sound less enthused if he tried.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, Rach. Seriously."

And then she rolls her eyes, and she doesn't even mean to.

"What?" He just looks at her. "You're pissed."

"I'm _trying," _she says again. "I spent a lot of money on this." It's the stupidest reason she can come up with, but it's the only one that won't make her sound paranoid and pathetic.

"I can pay for dinner."

And then she rolls her eyes again. "Noah, I got us a hotel room."

"You didn't have to do that."

"And I bought new underwear."

"Yeah? What kind?" And the smirk on his face seems almost genuine and normal, but she can see just past his eyes that it's mostly an act.

"I'm just trying to make this halfway normal. I thought you wanted to spend time with me."

And the smirk disappears. He looks conflicted, and then he shakes his head. "I'm just in a shitty mood," he finally admits. "Things are just fucked, you know."

It's his first birthday since his mom's death. She gets that. She knows that all holidays and special occasions are going to be weird for awhile. She's just trying to keep his mind off of it as best as possible. But maybe she's trying too hard, and maybe getting pissed off about his lack of enthusiasm is just really selfish on her part.

"I'm sorry. Noah... I know it's got to be weird."

He just shakes his head. "Bekah's turning into a little shit."

_That, _she was not expecting.

"What're you talking about?"

He sighs loudly and drinks half of his water in one gulp. "She's just getting into trouble and shit. And I know it's his fault because you know Bekah, she doesn't get into shit like that."

"What's she doing? She's getting in trouble at school?" If she is, it's the first Rachel's heard of it.

"She's failing like three subjects, and she keeps just like getting in trouble for doing stupid shit."

Rachel's surprised to hear this. She hasn't heard anything from Bekah besides the fact that she's fine and that everything's okay. To hear that she's actually doing so poorly in school that she's _failing _isn't something she wants to hear. Still... "Well, maybe that's pretty normal," she says carefully, knowing fully well that what she says right here can easily be construed as taking the enemy's side. Noah's staring at her, so she chooses her words carefully. "I mean, I don't really think your mother dying suddenly and having your life totally uprooted is that far of a jump to acting out a little and not paying attention in school."

"Well, if he didn't take her away from everything she knows and fuck her whole life up, maybe she'd be dealing a little bit better."

And Rachel knows there's no point in arguing. Nothing she says is going to sway his opinion in the least. In Noah's head, his father is the be all and end all of all things evil and wrong with the world. He probably blames him for cancer and the War in Iraq as well. She doesn't blame him, though. Sometimes she wishes he held a little less anger in his heart, but she doesn't blame him for feeling the way he feels. She has tried several times to put herself in his shoes, but it's impossible. She has no idea how to imagine the things his father put him and the rest of his family through. As unconventional as her family might be, she's always been loved and protected. Her parents have never come home drunk and angry, no one has ever hit her or told her she was useless and a waste of space. No matter how terrible things got at school or elsewhere, she could always go home to people who would make things better. So she can't put herself in the shoes of someone who never had that same security. She doesn't know how.

"Noah..." She lets her voice trail because she isn't sure she really wants to open this up and ask this question. It might turn out very badly, she knows. He's staring at her, though, and the restaurant is loud and busy all around them. "Do you think you'll ever forgive your dad?"

And he looks away from her. She follows his gaze and sees that he's staring aimlessly at two servers who are trying to unload a huge tray of sushi to a four-top. She doesn't know if he's ignoring her or if he's considering her question. "I hate him." And it's so simple and direct. She frowns because it's not the answer she wants to hear, but she knows better than to think she has a right to expect anything else.

"Why didn't you ever tell anyone what he was doing when you were a kid?" She doesn't know what she's doing. This isn't a conversation she really wants to be having at all, and it's definitely killing the mood on the whole birthday seduction thing. But she wants to know these things, and there's nowhere he can really escape in a crowded Japanese restaurant in Manhattan.

Noah destroys the rest of his drink, and then he taps his straw against the ice impatiently. He's doing his best to avoid the conversation, but she's willing to wait as long as he insists on taking. When it's obvious that she's not just going to let it go, he finally answers, but she can tell he'd rather be doing just about anything else.

"Because if he was hitting me, he wasn't hitting my mom. So I kept my fucking mouth shut."

He just seems so resolute about it all. Rachel hates hearing about it, mostly because it's not something she ever imagined or really _wanted _to imagine. It makes her sick to hear of it. "He hit your mom, too?" Her voice is quiet, but she knows he can hear her despite the fact that there's noise all around them.

Noah just looks at her, and then he looks away again. She sort of thinks he might yell at her because he's doing that thing he always does whenever he's particularly angry or upset about something and needs to collect himself before he starts being a total asshole or punching walls. When he looks at her again, he doesn't answer her question directly. Instead, his face looks strange, and she thinks he still might flip at any second.

"I'm not like that, Rachel." It's not what she's expecting to hear, and she's definitely not expecting to hear the seriousness of his tone. "I'm never gonna fucking be like that. I swear."

"I know..."

But he shakes his head. "I would never do that shit. Like hit... I would never hurt you or do anything like that, I fucking swear."

Rachel's beyond confused by now. She's never really seen that look on him before- so fully serious and oddly determined. She doesn't even really know what he's talking about, and she hopes that she didn't say or do something that might make it seem like she would actually worry about something like that. But he seems strangely out of it at the same time, so she really doesn't know where it's coming from.

"Can we just go?" His face is paling, but his cheeks are heating up. He looks like he might be sick. "I'm just... Can we just get out of here?"

She nods, not knowing what else to do. He grabs his wallet from the back of his pants and throws three twenties down onto the table. Rachel tries to protest and say she'll pay, despite the fact that they haven't even gotten their food yet, but Noah just shakes his head and makes a beeline to the exit. Rachel doesn't know what to do, so she follows after him as quickly as possible. She sees their server throwing them a confused look, and she tries to throw an apologetic look her direction, but it's pretty pointless.

It's raining when she gets outside, and she's not surprised. Noah's standing on the corner with his hands in his pockets and staring straight ahead. Rachel doesn't say anything, just spots a taxi and hails it as quickly as possible. He doesn't speak to her in the cab, but she takes his hand because she feels like she should. She takes him to the hotel because the room's already paid for, and even though she's pretty sure the birthday seduction plan is officially off, she has a feeling that tonight's not going to be audience-friendly anyway.

"Sorry about dinner." It's the first time he's spoken since they were in the restaurant, and she sees him shiver when they finally make it up to their room. They should've stopped by the dorm and gotten new clothes and things, but she just needed to get him somewhere alone and safe. The lack of dry clothes right now is really annoying, though, but when she planned this, clothes weren't really on her mind.

"Are you okay?" She asks the question as he tries to appear as normal as possible and get them both towels from the bathroom. He rubs his over his face and hands her the other. She takes it and does nothing.

"Babe, I'm fine." It sounds like a lie. The _babe _doesn't sound genuine- it sounds like a distraction. She doesn't know what the hell's going on with him, but it's starting to worry her.

"Noah, please don't lie to me. Just tell me what's wrong."

She knows it goes beyond Bekah getting in trouble. She can tell that he's dredging up memories he doesn't want to remember and fighting battles he wants to forget. She can tell because she _knows _him, and she knows that look on his face.

"Nothing's wrong," he says adamantly, but that just makes it sound even less true. "I'm just stressed and shit. It's fine."

He sits down on the bed, and she watches him. Finally, she runs the towel over the ends of her hair and then tosses it to him before she climbs onto the bed as well and sits on her knees. He looks at her, probably expecting the seduction she planned so carefully in her head. She knows she's transparent and that he sees even more than most people. But this isn't the time, and they both know it.

"I don't think you're anything like your dad." She doesn't really look at him when she says it because she knows it's a dangerous topic. She knows he just wants to forget it, but he sounded way too worried when he brought it up at the restaurant. She knows what it's about deep down, and there's a part of her that expects him to blow up and start screaming at her to leave him alone.

He doesn't, though, but maybe this is worse. His eyes go about a shade darker, and he just stares at her for a really long moment. "I could be." And he sounds totally serious.

"You're not."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do." And she hates that there's a tiny part of her that's actually scared.

He just keeps staring her down. "I'm a lot stronger than you," he says lowly. "I could hurt you."

She blinks at him. "But you won't," she answers back quietly.

There's more silence. He stares at her, and she wants to flinch away from his gaze. It bothers her more than she wants to admit. She doesn't know if it's a threat or a worry. She knows he would never do that, but he looks so serious right now...

"I won't," he finally agrees, and she barely hears him. "My mom would never fucking forgive me."

Rachel already knows everything. He called her a cunt once. It was a few years ago, before they were really dating- back when she was cheating on Finn and Noah was her sometimes unwilling accomplice. They got into an argument, and it was loud and heated, and she doesn't even remember what it was about. She remembers him saying that, though, and she remembers thinking he wasn't worth anything if he could say something so awful. But then he called her with an apology within minutes. He was being serious, and he kept telling her that his mother wouldn't like that if she knew and that he wasn't raised to treat girls like that. She didn't fully understand then, but she gets it now.

"I don't want to be anything like him." He's talking lowly now as he's leaning back and she's crawling toward him. She fits on top of him just nearly perfectly, and she loves the way one of his arms sits low on her back, holding her gently in place.

"You're not." She brushes her lips against his lightly. "You're so much better than he is."

"Sometimes I do shit I know I shouldn't do. Shit he would do."

"You're not him," she tells him again, trying not to notice the way his fingertips feel against the skin of her hip. She doesn't even know when his hand managed to get under her skirt. "I know who you are."

He's staring at her, really intently- almost like he's looking for something. It's the kind of drowning look that can both turn her on and worry her to death. It's cliché, but she feels like he can see into her soul. Or maybe she's just looking into his.

"I want my sister." He doesn't even blink, and it sounds like the most honest thing he's ever said. The honesty turns slightly desperate with the next sentence. "Rachel, I have to fucking get her."

She just nods. Then she dips her head and presses a kiss under his chin. It's just barely there, but he makes a tiny noise in his throat that has her mouth moving without her brain's permission.

"Do you want to marry me?"

The words come out before she has a chance to stop them. They're just whispered, but he tenses up almost immediately. She feels like she's in a haze, though- like she's somehow managed to become drunk within a matter of minutes and without the aid of any alcohol. She kisses his neck again, but she feels his eyes on her. He's waiting for her to explain herself, but she doesn't want to. There's no choice, though.

"Eventually," she clarifies quietly.

He nods. It surprises her. She's not really sure she expected him to answer, but she's not really sure why she asked in the first place, either. He doesn't say anything, and she still can't look at him. The haze is still there, though, and she feels it settling all over her. "I'd say yes," she barely whispers.

He's totally still for what seems like a really long time. But then he's saying her name, "Rachel..." and holding her face in both of his hands. "Rach, you gotta stay here." It's not a direct response, but she knows what it means. He's holding her face, and now she has no other option but to look at him.

"If it'll help you..." She moves her head lower and kisses him again. "Just ask me, Noah."

She's never brought up the conversation she overheard between him and her father. She doesn't bring it up now. She just puts the option on the table and waits to see what he does with it. There's nothing for awhile. He stares at her, and his eyes are dark and meaningful. But then he seems to gather some kind of resolve, and he shakes his head.

"I don't know a lot of shit. But I know that you and me... End game. And fuck anybody who's got something else to say."

He's never said anything like that before, and she bites her lips as he stares at her for another long moment. Then he kisses her, and she feels something there that she's never felt before. It's not gentle, it's needy and urgent and full of everything she wants to feel and hasn't even realized. It only adds to the faux intoxication that seems to be overtaking her brain.

"I love you." He barely gets the words out because his lips are still on hers, and they're still kissing her with all that something she didn't know existed. "I can't ask you that right now," he mumbles. "Don't be pissed."

"I'm not." And it's the truth. She's not. She's not in any kind of rush, and maybe she should have made that clearer. She feels one of his hands in her hair and the other falling aimlessly down her side. "But if you need me... I'll do anything."

And he nods. He knows that. He's still kissing her, and she can't figure out where all of this new emotion is coming from. She doesn't know how it's even real.

Is it possible to be more in love with someone than you were just seconds before? She doesn't know. She doesn't know anything right now. But they've never been closer than they are in this very second, even with two full layers of soaking wet clothes between them.

It's absolutely... _amazing._

… … …

A/N: Gah, that one took me forever to get out. I kind of hate it... But it just wouldn't flow for me. Sorry if it's terrible, but thanks for reading anyway!


	12. May, Part 1

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter 11**

**MAY, PART 1**

… … ...

Rachel's glad to be home.

Before college, she probably thought leaving New York for a summer in Ohio would be torture, but now that it's actually here, she's really happy to be back in Lima. It's not that she doesn't love NYC because she does- she loves it a lot. She knows for sure that she wants to spend the rest of her life there. But she's tired of school, tired of the schedule, and tired of being cramped into a small space with three other girls. She likes her roommates, and they've already made plans to room together next year, but she's ready for a break. She's ready for her own room in her own house. She's ready to just escape the busy city and relax with her parents and her boyfriend for a couple of months.

She gets home on a Friday. Her dad drives to New York after her last final, and they pack up his car and come home the same night. They spend the whole ride home laughing and singing along to the radio. She's happy. It's late when they get back to Lima, but she barely spares time for a shower before she's throwing some clothes into a bag and telling her dads she'll see them tomorrow. She doesn't know if that's weird- them not protesting the fact that she's leaving when they know exactly where she's going and exactly what she plans on doing. She wonders if they trust her more than they should, but there's no question that things are different all the way around now. A year ago, she would have lied and said she was going to Santana's if she knew there was no chance in her returning and making curfew. Now, they tell her to take Noah leftovers from the dinner her other father attended earlier in the evening.

She calls him on the way over, but there's no answer. She wonders if he's still at work and thinks he probably is, since it's Friday and the restaurant is always extra busy on the weekends. He splits his time between hosting and serving now, and she has no idea what he's doing tonight. Half the time _he _doesn't even know until he shows up for work.

There are no cars in his driveway, but she grabs the extra key and lets herself in anyway. The place is a mess. He's never been the neatest person, but this is ridiculous. There are dirty dishes and fast food cups littering the coffee table. A pair of boxers is quickly disappearing between couch cushions, and she doesn't even _want _to know what they're doing in the living room. The television is on, and ESPN is blaring through the surround sound. Rachel can't help thinking that Mrs. Puckerman would murder someone if she saw the house like this. She also can't help thinking that it's never going to sell in this condition.

Because there's nothing else to do, Rachel starts cleaning. She throws out all the trash and gathers up the random dirty clothes to take to the laundry room. She's just getting started on making her way through the several inches of dust that are covering the television and entertainment center when she hears a car in the driveway and a key in the back door.

"Rachel?"

That's not Noah. She turns around and sees _Finn_ come into the room a couple of seconds later. She's not overly surprised because she realized while collecting the random dirty laundry that about half of it was too big to be Noah's.

She gives him a semi-awkward hug because even though they're basically friends, there's still some level of weirdness there. She saw him once at Christmas and a couple of times over spring break, but they haven't really talked a lot otherwise. She keeps up with him the same way she keeps up with everyone else- Facebook. She also hears about him sometimes from Noah, and really, she's glad that they're friends again. Of course she's happy that Noah has someone in town to entertain him and be around for him, but there's a selfish layer to it as well. Now that they're friends and have forgiven each other, a little bit of the guilt _she's _been carrying around since she was sixteen has also disappeared as well.

She's always felt bad about it. Really. Felt bad about what she did to Noah and Finn's friendship and about what she did to Finn personally. She still takes all the blame for it, knowing then and still now that it was really a terrible thing to do. She never wanted to be a cheater, and when she found herself in that situation, she still thinks she should have just been able to stop. But if she'd stopped... Things would be a lot different. Finn got all her important firsts- first kiss, first love, first _time. _She doesn't regret any of those. Looking back, she knows that she loved him. It was a more innocent kind of love maybe, and even though only a couple of years have passed since then, she's grown up a _lot _from where she was at sixteen. It's ironic, though, how she spent so much time going back and forth between the two of them. Finn was her first kiss, but a couple of months later, Noah taught her _how _to kiss. She lost her virginity to Finn, but Noah's the one who had all the experience and know-how to actually make it _happen _for her. And Finn was the first person she truly fell in love with, but she never felt like she would actually _die _for someone until a few months ago.

So if she'd never cheated... She wonders where she'd be. Would she be coming home from New York to visit someone else? She doesn't know. She doesn't guess there's any point in wondering about it. Maybe in some fucked up way, the worst thing she ever did was also the best.

She stops cleaning to talk with him. He gets her a bottle of water out of the fridge, and they sit on the sofa talking about things that don't seem all that important or pressing right now. He asks her about New York, and she tells him that she loves it but that it's exhausting and that she's happy to have a break. He tells her about his classes at the local college, and she listens and predicts that given his lack of enthusiasm, he probably won't make it through another year. She's not really sure he needs it anyway, given the fact that he's already practically running his stepdad's business.

She asks him about Kurt and finds out that he's staying in Indianapolis for the summer for an internship. Finn says he doesn't talk to him much, which is something that's always confused Rachel a little bit considering the fact that their parents have been married for a couple of years now. She asks if his parents are mad that Kurt's not coming home, and he says they're not. That's really all he says about it, and she wonders if there's a little bit of jealousy under the surface there. She doesn't feel like they're good enough friends to ask, though.

It's well after midnight when Noah actually makes it home, and Finn's already passing out on the couch- drifting in and out of consciousness as some 90s action movie flashes across the screen. Rachel doesn't care about his lack of being awake, though, and Noah doesn't even spare him two glances before they're heading up to his room. She hasn't made it up here yet, but she's not surprised to see that his bedroom is no neater than the rest of his house.

"Have you ever heard of cleaning?" she asks, dropping the duffel she barely remembered to grab from downstairs into yet another pile of clothes. She has a feeling, though, that this is is a stack of _clean _laundry.

"Busy," he says dismissively, grabbing her hand and yanking her forward until she's right in front of him. She tries to manage some sort of disapproving look, but all she gets out is half a smirk before he's kissing her and spinning them around until her back hits his dresser.

She won't lie. Kissing him is possibly her favorite thing in the world, even above singing and receiving compliments. But she's not about to let him distract her from the giant issue downstairs. One of his hands is sliding up the back of her shirt, but she ducks away a little bit.

"You have to kick your friend out first," she tells him seriously, and she turns her head away when he tries to kiss her again.

"What friend?"

"_Finn." _She rolls her eyes, and he looks kind of guilty.

"He sorta lives here," he says slowly, and she can tell he's looking at her and trying to gauge some sort of reaction.

For what it's worth, Rachel manages not to be too affected. She just stares at him and shakes her head a little bit. "I'm sorry, what?"

Noah just shrugs. "He's been staying here. You know, like until the house sells or whatever."

"Since _when?"_

"A few weeks? A month maybe. I don't know."

"_Why?"_

And he shrugs again. "I guess so he doesn't have to live at home. And he pays the light bill and shit, so it's cool. We might get an apartment or something after the house sells."

And that kills it right there. Rachel ducks away from him and shakes her head, turning around to face him sharply with hands on her hips. "Hell _no," _she says seriously. "I sure won't be over there if you do that."

Noah's either actually confused by her reaction or is doing a good job of playing stupid. "What's the big deal?"

Rachel rolls her eyes again. "Do you honestly think I want to spend the night in a tiny little apartment where my boyfriend and my ex-boyfriend live together?"

"Me and Finn are cool now." He says it so nonchalantly, like he honestly doesn't see the issue.

"I realize that, Noah. That doesn't mean it's not _weird!"_

Now it's his turn to roll his eyes. "I just said we _might, _Rachel, shit. Forget about it."

She opens her mouth to protest again, but she's cut off because he's kissing her. And now that she's moved away from his dresser, she's actually put herself in the perfect position to be pushed down onto the bed with very little effort. She looks up at him after she finds herself sitting on what she's sure is an unwashed comforter, but he just smiles at her a little before following her as she scoots backwards to unsuccessfully escape him.

"Stop it," she says seriously. They aren't finished with their conversation, and she intends to make sure they do just that. He sneak attacks and tickles her side, though, and all she can do is giggle mercilessly because he doesn't play fair. She tries to protest again, but he's got his lips on her neck and a hand pushing its way under her skirt.

"I'm _so _glad you're home."

His tongue's behind her ear now, sliding down her neck, and she's starting to forget why she was protesting in the first place. Right now, all she wants his for that tongue to be _everywhere _on her body. She kisses him, though, getting the corner of his mouth and more of his cheek.

"You smell like marinara."

She feels him smile against her skin. "You wanna shower?" The hand that's been playing with the end of her skirt is now squeezing her thigh.

"A-after." She stutters just a little bit because one of his fingers leaves her thigh and catches her off-guard by just _barely _sliding under the elastic of her panties.

"After what?" He lifts his head to look at her, and he blinks as he smiles. Rachel just stares at him and lets him know with her eyes that if he wants her to start talking dirty, he's going to have to do a lot more than squeeze her thigh and kiss her neck.

He knows that, and he doesn't wait for her to actually answer. He just kisses her again, and she loves the way his tongue tastes against hers. She thinks he's probably been chewing Big Red or something because his mouth tastes like cinnamon. He's got one hand behind her back, lifting her with him as he sits up just a little bit, and the other hand is pulling her shirt over her head. Clearly, he's not going to waste any time in taking her clothes off, and she doesn't particularly mind.

One of the thing she loves best about him is that he knows everything about her. He knows what goes on inside her head even if he's one-hundred percent convinced that half of the things she thinks and says are crazy. He knows when she's upset without having to ask. He knows her birthday and her favorite color and what size shoe she wears. He also knows exactly how and where to touch her to make her feel amazing. A lot of that is down to an abundance of experience she'd rather not think about, but there's some of it that's just solely _them, _and she knows it. They've been together awhile, and she thinks it shows in the way that his hands and lips know every single spot on her body that can draw a reaction.

He's got her skirt pushed up and two fingers inside her underwear. He's teasing her on purpose because sometimes he likes to get her frustrated. She knows it's because she reacts even more when she's annoyed. She'd call it mean if sometimes she didn't do exactly the same thing to him. He can't complain, though, since she learned it from him. He wouldn't complain anyway.

She likes how heavy he is on top of her. There's something comforting about it in the same way that she loves how small she feels when he hugs her. He's not abnormally tall or large, but he's _solid, _and she loves the thick arms and the tight abs even if she knows it's pretty superficial. She's never been one obsessed with bodily perfection, but she can appreciate it when she sees it. And luckily, she gets to see it often.

Not often enough, though, and she's reminded of that when his mouth starts sliding down her neck and lower and she feels herself arching up without even thinking about it. He hasn't bothered to take her bra off, he's just pulled the straps down until its entire purpose is pointless. She hears him saying something- maybe _I missed you _or maybe something else. It doesn't matter. She wants him so much that he could be reciting the periodic table, and she'd probably be turned on. She counts herself lucky that he made a D in chemistry, so she probably doesn't have to worry about that.

The first few buttons of his shirt are undone, so it's easier for her to just pull it over his head than it is to unbutton the rest. He stops what he's doing long enough to let her get the shirt off, and then he falls back against her while her hands slide down the back of his bare shoulders and then over his arms.

His hair's longer than it's been in years, and she can feel it against her cheek as he kisses her shoulder. When they were kids, he had a lot of hair- thick curls that fell down in his eyes. She has a specific memory of being nine years old and being forced to partner with him at temple one night. She remembers hating it because he'd just told her that she looked like a retarded Muppet earlier that day in school, and he clearly wasn't too happy about it, either, because he kept glaring at her and rolling his eyes. But she specifically remembers looking at his hair and thinking how unfair it was that he had all those natural curls as a _boy _while she had to sleep in sponge rollers before every single beauty pageant she'd ever been in. But he started shaving his head the next year, and it's been short ever since. She wonders if it's only this long now because he's lazy or because he's going to cut his Mohawk back. She almost opens her mouth to ask (and also to tell him in no uncertain terms that he's _not _doing the latter), but she doesn't get the chance because his mouth's at her ear, and he's saying some really filthy things that make her totally lose her train of thought.

"I wanna fuck you so bad."

She should correct his grammar, and she has plenty of times in the past. She doesn't now, though, because she really just wants him to get on with it, too. But what she _does _say is, "We have to be quiet..."

He shakes his head, and then he kisses her until she can barely even breathe. He _finally _touches her right where she's been dying to be touched this whole time, and he stops kissing her just at the same time she lets out some really embarrassing moan. She knows exactly what he's doing and knows that he _wants _her to embarrass herself. This is not the first time she's been with him while other people are in the house, but it's the first time he hasn't at least tried to keep her quiet. Mostly, of course, because he's never had a desire to be killed by any of their parents. But the person sharing the house with them right now is definitely no one's parent, and she knows perfectly well that Noah's twisted enough to _want _Finn to hear them.

And she is definitely _not _playing that.

"No," she says sharply, pushing his hand away and sitting up just enough so that he has no choice but to move over and let her. "Kick him out."

Noah rolls his eyes. "Oh, my god, Rachel, it's no big fucking deal."

"I am not having sex with you."

"Are you fucking serious right now?" He's staring at her like he can't actually believe the words coming out of her mouth. She's very serious, though, and she nods to let him know.

He gives her a mean look that does nothing to intimidate her, and then he lets out an annoyed huff and storms out of his bedroom. She doesn't know if he's leaving her or if he's obeying her. She just stays where she is and then hears Noah screaming at the top of the stairs. "Finn! Man, get out!" She smiles to herself, but there's no answer. _"Finn!"_

Then she hears a muffled, "Huh?" that's just barely audible from downstairs.

"Get out!"

"What the hell?" And that one's clearer. She kind of thinks Finn's actually gotten up and come to the bottom of the stairs. She's sure as hell not going to get up and investigate.

"Dude, just get the fuck out, okay?"

She hears more confused arguing, and then she hears Finn (obviously pissed off) slamming the back door and driving away. Noah shows back up looking thoroughly annoyed, but she just puts on her prettiest smile and thanks him.

"You just made me throw my best friend out into the fucking streets. You better make that shit up to me."

Rachel shakes her head, wondering where he picked up all the dramatics. Finn's _actual _house is less than three minutes away. She's sure he'll be just fine.

"Come here and let me try."

She bites down on her lip and reaches for him when he makes his way back over. She tugs him down and then climbs into his lap, moving so that he has no choice but to go backwards. He looks up at her, and she gives him another smile.

"I had a dream about you last night," she says lowly, kissing him gently and without all the rushed urgency of just a few minutes ago. He's got an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips when she stops to brush a hand over his forehead.

"What kind of dream?"

"You were wearing less than this." She's not very used to a belt and dress pants, and it really just seems like his work clothes are doing nothing but adding an extra step to getting him undressed. He doesn't seem to really mind, though, and when she has trouble with the belt, he just pushes her hands out of the way and does it himself.

"Rachel, seriously." She doesn't know what that means, but she assumes it's to do with the fact that her hand is inside of his pants and that she's taking this opportunity to tease him just the same as he was doing to her just moments ago. She can see in his eyes that he's in no mood to play around anymore. But she doesn't really care.

"Thank you for making him leave," she whispers, and then she licks the bottom of his ear because he loves that. "I just want to be alone with you."

It's not a lie. She _does _want to be alone with him and not just so she doesn't have to fight him for an acceptable noise level. She can tell he really wants that, too, when flips them over and has her panties halfway down her legs before she even registers what's happening.

She doesn't mind.

The next morning, Finn's back and looking pissed at both of them. Rachel pretends to be oblivious even though she's one-hundred percent certain that Noah's filled him in and blamed the entire thing on her. They eat breakfast that Rachel cooks, and then she tells them that they're going to spend the whole morning cleaning until the house stops looking like it belongs to a garbage hoarder. Finn says something about her being bossy because apparently he no longer has to be nice to her. She ignores him and starts assigning them chores. She feels like their mother. The fact that they've both seen her naked is not lost on her.

Rachel does the laundry because she doesn't trust either of them to do it correctly. There's not much they can screw up in vacuuming the living room or cleaning the bathroom, but there's plenty they can hurt when it comes to the clothes. She isn't going to take that chance.

Bekah calls around noon, asking if she can come over. Rachel hears Noah ask her if she's got a ride, and she must because he says, "Tell him to drop you off at the end of the driveway," which leads her to believe that he doesn't even want to take the chance of coming face to face with his dad.

Rachel looks through the cabinets trying to find something to fix for lunch, but there's nothing of substance anywhere. She starts making a list for the grocery store and sends Finn out to get them something to eat. He does what she asks, and she wonders if either of the boys realize they're just obeying everything she says. She kind of likes it.

Finn gets back right before Bekah gets there. Bekah looks like she's grown three inches in the past couple of months, but she runs right to Rachel, bypassing Finn and her brother. And Rachel's really happy to her. She hugs her and feeds her and feels more appropriate mothering her than she does Noah and Finn. But lunch is sort of nice. They all sit at the table and joke around, but Bekah still seems kind of off. Rachel feels bad for her because she knows she's been having a rough time lately and has been struggling at school. She wishes she knew how to help.

She's not the only one who notices. Noah is watching his sister very carefully, almost like he's looking for some sort of unspoken signal that anything out of the ordinary is happening. Rachel knows he stays stressed about it constantly, always worrying that Bekah's being mistreated or neglected in some way. This whole custody thing is taking way longer than Rachel ever would have expected, and every day that passes makes it seem a little more hopeless. She wants to help them both. She really _would _do anything for them.

There's just nothing _to _do.

But at least she's got all summer to try.

… … …

A/N: Happy New Year to you all! Thanks for reading, and as always, reviews are very much appreciated!


	13. May, Part 2

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter 12**

**MAY, PART 2**

… … …

Rachel never imagined herself living with her boyfriend, her ex-boyfriend, and _his _new girlfriend, but that's sort of what happens.

It doesn't take too long for her to stop protesting Finn's presence, mostly because Noah starts _ignoring _those protests after the first night. He tells her literally to get over it, and she's only pissed for a little while because she knows it's really _not_ that big of a deal. It's weird, yeah, but maybe they can all just ignore it. The awkward part comes with Destiny. And really, Rachel never knew people were actually named Destiny in real life- people who weren't strippers or porn stars anyway. But Destiny's neither. She's painfully All American Girl Next Door- with blonde hair and blue eyes and denim shorts and flowy tank tops and flip flops. She looks like she could be Taylor Swift's stand-in, and Rachel has to stop herself on several occasions from stealing Destiny's iPod and nosing through it because she has a feeling it's full of "Teardrops on My Guitar" and "You Belong with Me."

Rachel doesn't _hate _Taylor Swift, she just hates her music.

She doesn't hate Destiny, either. She thinks if she did, it would probably have to stem from some level of jealousy, and she doesn't want to buy into or admit anything of the sort. She's _not _jealous. She and Finn are long over, and she doesn't feel _anything _like that for him anymore. But no one likes seeing their ex-boyfriends with new girlfriends. It's always a little weird.

So when Finn brings her home one day and says he met her at the garage, Rachel isn't over the top thrilled.

But Destiny shows up a lot after that. She and Finn become an official couple almost as quickly as _Rachel _and Finn became an official couple. Which is clearly too fast all the way around. Rachel wonders if Finn realizes what he's doing and that he's jumping into things too quickly, but it's not her business to say, so she doesn't. If she did, it would all end in a fight- between her and Finn and her and Noah and Noah and Finn and maybe even Destiny and Finn. No one ever mentions the fact that Rachel used to be Finn's girlfriend. She's ninety-eight percent positive Destiny doesn't know.

It's not extremely terrible, though. It sort of feels Bohemian, all of them basically living together in one house, just barely old enough to be on their own anyway. She'd come it to _RENT, _but the filmmakers and songwriters are replaced with Italian restaurant workers and tire shop attendants. She's already too trained in the arts to liken herself to Maureen, and Destiny's way too white to be Mimi (even if she _does _have a stripper name). But somewhere, if she reaches really hard, Rachel can make it work and convince herself that this is as close to that type of free-living Bohemian lifestyle as she'll ever get.

But it's really not like that. Noah's the only one who actually _lives _there. She stays there a lot, but she goes home to her dads, too. Finn has a key, but he doesn't get mail there or anything. Destiny stays five or six nights a week, but it's not official. Sometimes Rachel still gets annoyed and wishes that it was just her and Noah because spending the summer playing house doesn't sound like the worst idea she's ever had. But it's okay. They all get along pretty well. They eat dinner together and watch movies. Destiny and Finn fall asleep downstairs, and Rachel drags Noah away from the television and the video games so that they can go upstairs and sleep, too. Or do other things that Finn and Destiny don't really need to be involved in.

One day, though, everyone besides Rachel is at work, so she goes back to her house to do a few miles on the treadmill and maybe take a nap in her own bed. Her parents aren't home, so the house is empty, and she turns the downstairs stereo up to full volume, determined to make it to at least five miles. Having a boyfriend who works at Breadstix isn't doing much to help her stay in shape. She's determined not to gain the Freshman Fifteen over the course of the _summer _when she avoided it all school year.

She's interrupted, though, when she sees her phone lit up and vibrating across the room. She's hardly even started on her workout, but she stops and answers it anyway. It's her dad, and he asks her where Noah is and why he's not answering his phone.

"He's got to work until eight." She grabs her water bottle and turns down the stereo that's still blasting at full volume.

"Where are you?"

"At home." She's confused. "What's wrong?"

"Lydia called me and asked me to get in touch with him." Lydia is Bekah's social worker, and Rachel immediately starts walking back upstairs as if that serves any purpose at all. "Do you think I'll be able to speak to him if I call the restaurant?"

"What's wrong with Bekah?" She's almost too scared to ask the question, and she walks into the kitchen and sits down blankly at the table.

She hears her dad sigh, probably weighing some legal issue about whether disclosing information to her is against the law or at least in violation of professional ethics. He knows that she'll find out anyway, though, so he obviously decides not to worry about the legalities. "She got suspended from school."

"_What?" _Rachel's confused, mostly because she has no idea what's going on. Bekah's been having some issues lately, mostly with grades, but she's never actually been in _trouble _before. She's definitely never done anything bad enough to get her suspended from school. "What did she do?"

"Fighting apparently."

Rachel just shakes her head, completely confused because she literally can't even _imagine _that.

Her dad goes on when she doesn't say anything. "I'm not even sure Lydia was supposed to tell me that, but she said she wanted Noah to be aware."

"I'll tell him," she says quietly. "I'll call you later."

She hangs up with her father and goes to her room to take a shower and change clothes. The workout will just have to wait. She thinks about the situation while she's getting dressed, and she wonders if she should call Bekah or something. She wonders if that's appropriate, but then she decides that she probably definitely needs to tell Noah first. She's _his _sister after all.

When she gets to Breadstix, she asks the hostess to get him for her. It's some girl Rachel's never seen before who is probably barely sixteen and gives Rachel and annoyed and bothered look. Rachel resists the urge to point out the fact that it's three in the afternoon and that the restaurant is nowhere near busy. In fact, she sees about four tables occupied, and there is certainly no one waiting to be seated. Nonetheless, the hostess goes to the kitchen and shows back up with Noah. He's obviously surprised to see her and gives her a confused look when she motions him over away from the hostess stand.

"My dad's been calling you."

He's still confused. "My phone's in the back. What's wrong?"

"That social worker called him. She said Bekah got suspended for fighting."

She watches him carefully because she knows that the potential for a very bad reaction is very high. His eyes kind of narrow, and she can tell that he's physically forcing himself from reacting in a way that might get him fired. He doesn't say anything for a few seconds, and then he just holds out his hand. "Give me your phone."

She does because she knows if she doesn't, he'll cause a scene. He pushes past her and out the front door of the restaurant. She doesn't know if he's really supposed to be on the phone outside of the front door, but she goes after him anyway. He's skimming quickly through her contacts. "Who the fuck is _Ben?" _he asks hatefully before finding Bekah's name and hitting send. He doesn't wait for an answer before putting the phone to his ear. It's a good thing he doesn't because Rachel kind of feels like she might hit him for being such a moody asshole and snapping at her so rudely.

She doesn't say anything, though. She just waits while he listens to the phone ring, and then she can barely hear the voicemail pick up. He snaps the phone shut and hands it back to her.

"I'm going over there."

"You're at work," she reminds him needlessly, but he just shrugs.

"Then I guess I just magically started puking or something."

She follows him back to his house and sits on his bed while he changes out of his work clothes and into something normal. He's speculating all kinds of scenarios in his head- both about what caused Bekah to fight in the first place and all the reasons he can imagine as to why she wouldn't be answering her phone.

Rachel thinks Bekah's probably just in trouble and possibly has her phone confiscated. She doesn't say this. It's easier.

"And seriously, who the fuck is Ben?" Noah asks, pulling a t-shirt over his head and grabbing his wallet from its place on the bed.

Rachel rolls her eyes, having momentarily forgotten about his ridiculous question earlier. "Don't even go there," she warns quietly, not in the mood to argue over something stupid.

"I think I have a fucking right to know," and he says it so seriously that Rachel has no choice but to believe that he's totally serious. "I don't know anybody named Ben, and I don't like you fucking have random dudes' names in your phone."

Rachel rolls her eyes and really has to work hard not to go off on him. "He's in my program," she says snidely. "Believe it or not, I know a _lot _of people you don't. I did spend all year in a different city."

"Don't remind me." He bends down to pull his shoes on, and when he straightens back up, he just looks at her. "You coming?"

Rachel wants to roll her eyes again, but she just goes downstairs with him and sits in the passenger seat of his truck while he drives. They get about five minutes down the road before he starts bitching at her again. They argue over the fact that she apparently _knows _other boys or something. It's stupid, and Rachel gets more than a little annoyed at how possessive and chauvinistic he's being. She wants to demand his phone and call off every name she doesn't recognize (or _does _recognize but doesn't want in his phone), but she doesn't because it's stupid and childish, and they're supposed to be past that.

Instead, she turns the radio up and looks out the window.

It takes almost half an hour to get to his father's apartment. It's outside of town, and Rachel's never actually been here. She's not surprised that it appears to be in less than stellar shape. It's just a month to month rental, and those places are never the nicest. Rachel's phone rings just as they pull into the parking lot, and it's once again her father. He asks where they are, and she tells him.

He isn't happy.

"Damn it, Rachel..." She's shocked, and she just sits there while he stutters for a second. "Let me talk to Noah."

Rachel hands the phone over and listens to the one-sided conversation.

"Hello?... Yeah, I want to talk to my sister... No, she's not answering... No, I'm not calling him... Yeah... No... Okay... Okay, okay... Yes... Okay, bye."

He hangs up, and Rachel stares at him. "What did he say?" she asks when it's clear he's not going to offer that information.

"He said to go home and don't come back here unannounced."

Rachel sighs, but she rebuckles her seatbelt to leave just as Noah reaches for the handle on his door. "What're you doing? I thought we had to leave?"

"Fuck that." He opens the door and looks over his shoulder. "You coming or what?"

She knows she shouldn't. She should sit right here and call her father and tell him to hurry out here. Or really, she should do whatever she has to get Noah to stay in the car- whether that be by tears or blow job. But she doesn't. She undoes the seatbelt and slides across the seat so that he can help her down out of the truck. It's stupid, and she knows he just lied to her dad. She also knows that if this turns bad, _she'll _be the one in trouble. But it's certainly not the first time she's ever done something with him knowing that her parents would kill her if they found out.

No one answers when they knock. Rachel turns around, looking for the car she knows belongs to Mr. Puckerman, and she sees it parked about three spots over from their own. Noah must see this, too, because he knocks again. And again. And again. Until finally the door's being unlocked from the inside, and they're face to face with his father.

Rachel sees Noah's fist jerk into an unconscious fist. She knows that his initial reaction regarding his father is probably punch first and ask questions later, but he's also at least somewhat intelligent enough to know that that probably isn't a good idea.

"I need to talk to Bekah," he says with forced calm when his dad looks at them questioningly.

"She's asleep." A beat passes. "And she's not allowed to have visitors right now."

"You can't keep me from seeing my sister." Rachel looks at his profile and sees that Noah's face is set completely seriously. "I want to know what happened at school."

Mr. Puckerman steps outside and pulls the door to is apartment closed behind him. "She got into a fight and got suspended." A second later, he can't resist adding, "I'm sure that's a familiar process for you."

Obviously Rachel knows that's not a good start to any sort of conversation. Noah looks like he wants to kill something, and she thinks as quickly as possible, stepping in front of him and leaning her back against his chest so that she's in between him and his dad. She doesn't want him to throw any punches or do anything that would get him in trouble or possibly arrested for assault. She also knows that front porch fights are not a good way to get a judge on his side when it comes to a custody trial.

She thinks he probably knows all of this, too, and that's why he moves one hand low on her hip and keeps her pinned there against him.

"You don't know shit about me," he says without even the slightest hint of hesitation. "I want to talk to my sister, and if you don't let me, I'll call the fucking social worker and tell her you're keeping Bekah from her family."

"She is asleep," her dad repeats firmly. "And she is grounded. You can talk to her in three weeks."

Noah tenses and starts to say something else, but Rachel interrupts. "I'll find out from my father if you're allowed to do that."

She doesn't really _mean _to make it sound like a threat, or maybe she does. It comes across that way, though, and she knows that Noah's probably impressed and that his father probably wants to say something really hateful in response. He doesn't, though. He just watches and doesn't move while Rachel grabs Noah's hand and takes him back to the parking lot. She's kind of surprised that he goes without some sort of protest, but maybe he's coherent enough to realize that arguing in public isn't the smartest possible move to make in this situation.

Noah's pissed by the time they get back to Lima.

He keeps talking about it, making himself angrier and angrier. She knows he's probably driving himself crazy and that it must be really hard for him to be shut out of something important in Bekah's life like that, but she thinks it says a lot about how much he's matured that he didn't just hit someone or force his way into the apartment. Still, he's going off, throwing approximately 9,382,999 cuss words into one sentence. She's used to that, so she just sits and listens to him. When they get home, she starts making dinner while he starts slamming stuff around in his room.

Rachel doesn't know if she should admit to her dad that they actually went up to the door. She knows he'll be mad at them and that she'll possibly get in trouble. She realizes she's nineteen, but she doesn't want to give her parents any excuse to start employing the _you live under _my _roof _cliché. She likes that they trust her and that they don't make a big deal out of the fact that they see her less and less every week. Still, she really _does _want to know if Mr. Puckerman's allowed to keep Bekah away, even if she _is _grounded.

She calls her father.

He's understandably angry at the fact that they "blatantly disobeyed" him. He tells her that she shouldn't be encouraging "that kind of behavior," and he tells her that she should "have more common sense than that." She apologizes but just asks if Mr. Puckerman's really allowed to do that. Her dad grumbles a little bit more and then finally answers the question.

"He shouldn't, but he can. No one else has any real legal claim to her at this point. That includes Noah."

She tells Noah that later, after he comes downstairs in sweatpants and nothing else. She's boiling pasta, and she tells him about the conversation she had with her dad.

"I can't believe you fucking threw me under the bus like that!"

That's _not _what she expects in response, and she stops what she's doing and turns around to look at him.

"I asked my dad a question," she says sharply and slowly. "For _you. _Don't take your aggression out on me when I'm the only one on your side."

He kind of glares at her, and she kind of hates him for it. "Nobody's forcing you to act like you give a shit."

She doesn't know what to say to that. Part of her is shocked that he even has the balls to say it.

"You think I'm _acting?" _and her voice is low and dangerous.

"You're acting like it's some goddamn hardship to do your fucking role as a girlfriend."

She wants to throw something at him or hit him really hard. Mostly she wants to know what exactly her _role _as a girlfriend is. She doesn't get the chance to do anything, though, because they're interrupted by the sound of a key in the backdoor, and Finn and Destiny join them just a second later. They're smiling and in good moods, but they both stop when they see the obvious tension in the kitchen.

Rachel knows they shouldn't continue this argument with an audience. She knows they probably just both need to take a break and cool down before they both say things they'll regret later.

"I'm leaving," she says quietly, turning the water down on the pasta so that the house doesn't burn down.

"Where are you going?" He more demands it than asks it, and she works very hard to keep her composure.

"Home."

She wants that to be the end. She can escape for a little while, and they can both calm down and come to their senses. It's what makes the most sense, and he's smart enough to know that, too. She thinks he is anyway because he doesn't say anything when she grabs her purse off the table and heads toward the door. Just before she gets there, though, he can't resist.

"Whatever."

It's more mumbled than spoken, and it's just one word. It's one fairly _harmless _word, but it pushes her over the edge, and her mouth is flying before she has a chance to stop it.

"You've been an asshole to me all day, and I haven't done _shit _to you!" She actually screams it, spinning around and glaring at him because if she doesn't do something productive with her eyes, she's going to start crying.

"Yeah, bailing on me when I might fucking _need _you is just the greatest fucking thing, isn't it?"

She gapes at him. She really can't believe her ears. "I haven't bailed on you yet, have I?" she reminds him loudly. "Not even when you dumped me to go be a slut at college!"

He's glaring right back at her, and she knows she's doing a great job of really screwing up their relationship right now, but all she can hear is the blood roaring in her ears.

"Don't bring that shit up," he snaps. "Especially when you know it's not even fucking _true."_

And maybe it's not. She doesn't care.

"I have been here with you this whole fucking time!" she reminds him, wondering why she swears so much more when she's dealing with him. "I've done _everything _for you, and you don't even care!" She's quickly losing her war against tears, and they're stinging her eyes.

"Yeah, _right, _I don't fucking care," he says sarcastically, and he accents it with a roll of his eyes. Rachel, of course, grows even more frustrated.

"I don't know what I did to you! I don't know why you always take _everything _out on me all the time!"

"Everybody just calm down." It's Finn breaking into the conversation, and he sounds uneasy and probably embarrassed because his new girlfriend is around to witness this huge meltdown. Rachel hates him for it.

"Shut up, Finn!" she says hatefully, and then the tears finally break free and roll down her cheeks as she keeps her gaze focused on Noah. "You're supposed to _love_ me," she tells him seriously. "Not treat me like shit!"

He doesn't say anything. He just glares at her, and she wants him to say the right thing really, really badly. She wants him to tell her that he's sorry and that he loves her and that they just need to cool off. He doesn't say any of it. He just continues to look at her like she's some type of enemy or something, and it just makes her cry even more.

She leaves for real then, running out to her car and ignoring the fact that it's starting to rain. She's crying too hard to think that it matters at all, and she's frustrated when it's still difficult to see even after she puts her wipers on because her eyes are still clouded by tears. She sits in his driveway for a few minutes, waiting for him to come out and tell her not to leave. But he doesn't come. Finally she gives up and goes home.

She knows she must look terrible because both of her parents give her strange looks when she walks in the house. It's raining really hard now, and she's soaked. She's kind of thankful because maybe then they won't think too much about the fact that her mascara is streaking down her face in angry black lines. She knows her dad wants to go off on her some more about the whole incident from this afternoon, but she can tell he knows it's a bad time because he just quirks an eyebrow at her and then doesn't say anything.

She goes up to her room and starts pulling off all of her wet clothes. She really needs a hot shower, and she barely has her underwear off before she's turning on the tap and turning it as warm as she can stand it. The water spraying over her shoulders feels good, and she stops the shivering she didn't even know she was doing. She doesn't stop crying, though. She doesn't really remember the last time she cried this hard, and she's not even sure why she's doing it now. They didn't actually break up (that she knows of), and it's certainly not like it's the first time they've had a fight. So she doesn't know why it hurts so much or why she feels like she might literally vomit from choking on sobs.

Maybe the fight is only a small part of it. Maybe she's let too much go unresolved for too long, and now her emotions are all catching up with her at once. The pressure she's been under with school and Noah and everything else is too much for one person. She's trying to keep everything together and take care of everyone, but she's only nineteen. She's too young to deal with all of this, and sometimes she wishes that she wasn't as involved as she is. She loves him so much that it physically _hurts _to see him suffer, and he hasn't been normal for months. She's been trying to be the strong one because that's what he _needs, _but sometimes she wishes she didn't have to deal with it at all.

When she finally gets out of the shower, she wraps a towel around herself and walks back to her bed, picking up her phone and looking for a missed call or a text message. There's nothing. She wants to cry again, and she's just barely managed to stop.

Someone knocks on her door, and she wants to tell whoever it is to go away. But she hears her father's voice, quiet and concerned. "Rachel?"

Wiping the last of her tears away, she tries to make her voice normal. "Yeah?"

"Can I come in?"

She doesn't want him to, but she answers, "Yeah," anyway.

He opens the door and lets himself in. He's got a bottle of water, and he holds it out to her silently. She takes a long drink from it, trying to calm herself down. Water has always been her miracle worker. It doesn't seem to be doing its job at the moment.

"Want to talk about it?" Her dad sits down beside her, and she considers his question. She doesn't often feel like not talking, but at the moment, she can't think of anything she'd rather do _less. _She knows that her other father's already filled him in on the fact that she and Noah did everything he said _not _to do. She's sure he's downstairs still pissed off at her, but she's kind of thankful that he has enough compassion to at least not kick her while she's down.

"I'm fine," she lies, drinking about a third of the bottle at once. "Just a little worried about Bekah."

He knows she's lying. Her parents have always been able to tell, which is probably why she's failed to get away with pretty much _anything _her whole life. He doesn't call her on it, though. He just gives her a sad kind of look and then pats her knee.

"You're doing your best."

It's a familiar phrase. He used to say it to her often when she was younger. If she ever failed to place at a pageant or if she couldn't figure out a particularly difficult piece of choreography in dance, she'd always hear how she was doing her best and how that was all that mattered. Maybe she believed it then because she was six and stupid. But now she's grown up, and now she knows that your best doesn't mean shit when it comes down to actually making something of yourself. She's had one year in New York and is already wising up to the business. She knows that to be successful your best has to be flawless.

She's not sure she's got that in her when it comes to fulfilling her _role _as a girlfriend, especially since she doesn't even know what that _is_. Relationships don't come nearly as natural to her as singing does.

And she knows that sometimes your best just isn't good enough.

… … …

A/N: So... you know... Everyone has stupid, senseless drama sometimes. That's life. These two are no exception.

In other news, I've been wanting to write like crazy lately, but I keep running into blocks. I want to do some drabbles just to get over it, so inbox me some prompts (or leave them in the comments here or elsewhere, doesn't really matter), and I'll start filling them. Any character or couple! Thanks, dears!


	14. May, Part 3

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter 13  
**

**MAY, PART 3**

… … …

They don't talk for two days.

Rachel's waiting for him to call and apologize, and when it becomes evident that he's not, she grows frustrated and refuses to even entertain the notion of calling him. Instead, she spends a lot of time on the phone with Santana who's at a training camp for nearly the whole summer, and between them, they come up with an epic list of all the reasons why he's a terrible person. Neither of them actually _believe _it, but they've got a lot of evidence to suggest otherwise. And anyway, it makes her feel better.

She runs into Mercedes one day at Target, and they talk for a little while about nothing in particular, mostly about college. She and Mercedes have never been best friends, but they stopped annoying each other _quite _as much by the time high school was over. They definitely haven't spent the last year texting and keeping up with each other, but they're friendly enough to have a conversation in the cosmetics aisle. It doesn't take long, though, for the conversation to turn to Noah, and Mercedes obviously wants to know how he's been.

"I heard about the whole thing with Puck's mom... That really sucks."

Rachel just nods. She doesn't know what else to do, so she just agrees.

"How's he doing with everything? I mean, you guys are still together, right?"

Rachel doesn't really know the answer to that question, but she nods anyway. "He's okay. I mean, he's dealing with it."

"I sent a card. After it happened. I'm guessing he got it."

Rachel tries to think. There were so many cards coming in that she didn't even look at them all. But she just nods. "I'm sure he did."

It's weird. They don't have anything to talk about, so they just smile politely at each other, both grab what they need from the shelves, and go their separate ways.

That night, though, her phone rings, and it's Tina. Rachel hasn't actually spoken to her since spring break when she was needlessly rude, but she sent an apology via email, and she thinks they're okay. Still, she's surprised to see Tina calling her, so she answers. Apparently Noah's at Mike's, and he's drunk and trying to leave. So Tina's calling her to come get him because he won't let anyone drive him. And really, Rachel doesn't know that she's going to be any help at all, considering the fact that he hasn't even spoken to her in nearly forty-eight hours.

She drives to Mike's anyway.

She's glad to see Noah's truck in the driveway, which means they've at least held him off this long. There are a couple of other cars there, but she doesn't pay much attention to them. She just rings the doorbell and waits until Tina answers.

"He's being a real asshole," she says, skipping all sorts of greetings and getting straight to the point.

Rachel isn't surprised. He's often an asshole when he's drunk- even more so when he's drunk and stressed. He's been moody lately anyway, and that's putting it lightly.

She follows Tina into the house and down to the basement. Not for the first time, she wonders if Mike even _has _parents. She doesn't think she's ever seen them, and this was always _the _place for parties. Tonight isn't a party, though. There are just a few people, and she imagines it was more the drink beer and play video games sort of get-together. She sees Noah arguing with some guy she recognizes from school but never really spoke to. He sees her, too, and she half-expects him to start cussing her out or something.

He doesn't.

He just smiles at her and walks over to where she's standing by the stairs. Then he grabs her shoulders and kisses her hard. She lets him because she doesn't really want anyone else knowing their business. She doesn't know why he does it, though. Even drunk, he's usually pretty good at remembering if he hates someone.

"Let's go," she says quietly, turning her head and breaking the kiss.

All he does is nod a little and pull his keys out of his pocket. "I'll meet you at the house?"

"Noah, you're not driving."

"I'm not that drunk."

She's not surprised at his insistence. "Give me your keys, I'll take you home."

"I can _drive."_

She's frustrated, but it's not the first time she's ever had to argue with him about his lack of driving ability while intoxicated. She can handle it just fine, which is why she doesn't appreciate Tina interjecting her opinion. Of course, Tina sounds extremely pissed off and bitchy, so Rachel can only imagine what he's done or said in the moments before she arrived.

"Puck, if you try to drive, you're going to run off the road and kill yourself or someone else!"

"Fuck you." Rachel closes her eyes at his automatic response because she expects it the second Tina starts going down that line of thought. Car accidents and road fatalities are kind of a sore subject, and she can see Noah's eyes darken, signaling that he's just going to get meaner from here on out.

"Dude..." Mike's shown up, and he's shaking his head like he wants to say something but is also wary of the fact that a fight could escalate very quickly.

"Why don't you tell your girlfriend to stay the fuck out of my business?"

"Noah..." Rachel's voice trails, and she sighs. She doesn't know what to do or say, and she's too exhausted to deal with this.

He turns his head and looks at her. It's like he suddenly remembers the fact that they haven't spoken in days because he kind of squints and then glares. "You know what?" he asks lowly. "Fuck you, too."

Rachel rolls her eyes. She's not going to deal with this. She's not going to put up with it, either. She's tried and tried, but she's not going to stand around while he treats her like shit in front of other people, some of whom she doesn't even _know._

"Fine," she snaps back. "Have fun trying to get home."

She turns around to head upstairs, but Tina's practically _screaming _at the back of her head.

"You _have _to take him!"

Rachel's pissed now, too, so she turns back around and glares first at Tina and then at Noah. Then she reaches over and grabs the keys out of his hand. He's not expecting it, so he doesn't even have a chance to fight her for them. Then she turns around and goes back upstairs. She hears him coming behind her a few seconds later, and by the time they reach the main floor of the house, he's cussing her out again. She hears bits and pieces of whatever he's saying, but she doesn't snap until they're actually outside.

"Shut up! I am so _sick _of you being this way!"

"What way?" he demands, and she knows he's just looking for more ammunition to fight her with. She doesn't care.

"I'm sick of _babysitting _you!"

That's probably the wrong thing to say, but she really doesn't care. She's angry now, and she intends on telling him just that. She's not surprised at all when he lashes back out.

"I already told you nobody's forcing you to fucking be here! If you want to go, then fuck off!"

She knows she's breathing really heavily. She's so mad that it feels like it's literally bursting to get out of her. "If I wasn't here, you'd already be dead in a ditch somewhere!" She doesn't care if it's a sore subject, it's the truth. She's screaming now, and she doesn't care that everyone inside (and probably all of the neighbors) can hear. "Now get in the fucking car!"

She drops his keys into her pocket and grabs her own. She gets into the driver's seat and wonders if he's actually going to obey her. She's sort of surprised when he's yanking open the door to her car and sliding into the passenger side. She doesn't wait another second before backing out of the driveway and spinning onto the street.

Their argument resumes immediately.

"Stop acting like some kind of goddamn saint, Rachel! I don't need you to fucking take care of me, I can take care of myself!"

"You're doing a really crappy job of it!"

"Nobody asked for your opinion. I know you love the sound of your own voice, but sometimes you should just shut the fuck _up!"_

She grips the steering wheel tightly, and the tips of her knuckles turn white. "Sometimes _you _should remember that there are only a handful of people in this world who give a damn about you, and maybe you should learn to stop treating them like shit!"

"I don't want your fucking _pity!"_and his voice is so loud by the last word that she actually jumps a little.

"It's not pity!" And she hears her voice waver, which means she's dipping quickly from pissed off to desperate. "Noah, I _love _you!"

There are several long beats of silence that seem to drag on for an eternity. In reality, Rachel knows it's just a few seconds. He's speaking again before she has time to register this. "Well, maybe you fucking shouldn't." His voice is quiet now and a far cry from the screaming that's been filling the air for the last several minutes.

Rachel starts crying then because she doesn't know what else to do. She can't help it, either, and the tears that leak out of her eyes aren't exactly something she welcomes with open arms. She hates crying when they fight because it always makes her weaker than she wants to be. But these aren't just angry tears- they're fueled by something a lot deeper than that, and she doesn't want to be having this conversation at all because she can't stand when he talks like that. She pulls the car over to the side of the street and puts it in park, trying to breathe deeply enough to stop the tears. It doesn't work, and she folds her arms over the steering wheel and lets her forehead drop against the leather.

It takes him a few seconds to actually formulate a statement, and when he does, it's quiet and emotionless. "Let's just go home."

"Why would you even say that?" She turns her head without lifting it and stares at him, silently begging for some sort of explanation as to why he has to break her heart _all the time. _

"Say what? Rachel..." He kind of screws up his face in frustration. "Fucking... Let's just go."

But Rachel's not going anywhere. They've avoided this conversation long enough, and tears or no tears, side of the road or no side of the road, they're going to _talk._

"You knowI'm not lying," she says seriously. "This isn't an act... I'm not _acting," _his words from before cut through her all over again. "I'm here because I _want _to be."

"You shouldn't want to be!" His voice raises again but only slightly. She stares at him, and he shakes his head. "Rachel, don't you ever think this shit just isn't worth it?"

"No," she says immediately. "I never think that." A beat passes, and then she asks, "What shit?"

"This shit! Us. It's just... This isn't your fucking problem, Rachel. You don't have to be here!"

"I-" He cuts her off before she gets another word out.

"You're not gonna _want _to be here..." She wonders how he got so sober so quickly. "You shouldn't have to deal with all this shit... We're not even on the same fucking page anymore!"

"What?"

"I'm a fucking college drop out! I didn't even make it through a whole semester!"

"That's not your fault."

"It doesn't matter! It happened. I... You've got dreams and goals and shit, and I don't even know what I'm doing hour to hour anymore."

It sounds like a breakup. It really _feels _like a breakup. Rachel can't even formulate a response, so she just cries, and she doesn't lift her face from its hiding spot against the steering wheel. She listens to him breathing, but he doesn't actually say anything for a really long time. She's not going to look at him, so she has no idea what he might be thinking.

Finally, he just says, "Stop crying, Rachel."

That doesn't work, of course. In fact, it serves no purpose at all except to make her cry even harder. He lets her for a little while, but then he speaks a little more sharply.

"Let's just go."

She doesn't listen. She can't do anything because the only thing going through her head is the fact that he's dumping her and that she doesn't have any idea what to do with that. He promised her everything, promised her _end game... _And now he's just dumping her as easily as he did that night in his bedroom back in November. Only it's a million times worse now because now she doesn't have anywhere to place the anger and hurt and overall rage that's boiling inside. If she directs it at him, it makes her a bitch because he's doing it for such a heartbreaking sort of reason.

So she just cries.

"Drive the fucking car, Rachel!"

He screams it then, and she draws in a wavering voice because even without looking at him, she can tell that he's wavering on the edge of some sort of hysterical meltdown. Those are never ideal situations for him because he's so terrible at channeling any type of emotion. And that scares her just the tiniest bit- the fact that he's screaming now and that she can't even force herself to fight back or even say anything. All she can do is cry, and her whole body's shaking because she really can't believe this is happening.

The next thing she registers is the shift in the car as his weight leaves it and then the slamming of the door so hard that the whole car moves. She lifts her head then and sees him stalking away, walking as quickly as he can down the road away from her car. Away from _her. _

And maybe she's never hurt this much in her whole life.

Hours pass, or probably minutes. Rachel doesn't know because time, just like everything else, seems completely irrelevant and pointless at the moment. The only thing that matters is that she watches him walk away until she can no longer see him, and then she cries for another really long time until she finally puts the car back into drive and pulls back onto the road. She feels like she might vomit, but she needs to at least make it home.

But then she sees him, and she should have known she'd catch up with him quickly enough. He's not walking anymore, though. He's sitting down, his back to the road and his feet dangling into the ditch beside him. She can't see him, but she knows he's not right. Either he's still drunk or something else is terrible because she can't think of any other reason why he would literally be _sitting _on the side of the road. Her head tells her to keep driving because it's not her problem, and if she says anything, it's going to turn into an even bigger fight.

But the rest of her, including the most important part, can't leave him just sitting there.

She pulls the car over and hesitates for just a few seconds before getting out. She walks back to him, and she's sure he can see her out of the corner of his eye. But as she gets closer, she realizes that he's crying, and her own eyes start watering again. She doesn't know what else to do, so she just sits down beside him, and he keeps looking straight ahead, his chest shaking sporadically as he tries, and fails, to hold in as many tears as possible. It's like he thinks he can hide it despite the fact that his eyes are watery and his cheeks are wet. She hasn't seen him cry since the night of his mother's funeral. Not since the social worker first showed up and took Bekah, and he finally just broke and stopped fighting his emotions long enough to _feel _something. If he's cried since then, she's not aware.

But he's crying now, and she can't stand it. So she takes a chance and just hugs him, knowing there's a good possibility that it will infuriate him and that he'll start screaming at her. But he doesn't. Instead, all shakiness that's wavering inside of him seems to snap, and he's crying harder almost instantly. He still hasn't looked at her, but she keeps both arms wrapped around him from the side and just holds him because she doesn't know what else to do. There aren't that many cars driving by, but she can only imagine what the people who do see them must be thinking. It's dark outside, and she doesn't really know how late it's gotten. The air is hot and sticky, but she won't let him go for anything right now.

"Don't leave me," he says weakly, and she can barely hear it over the incessant chirping of the crickets that seem to be having some sort of noise war around them. It's ironic really. She was sure he was dumping her, and he seems to think the opposite. She doesn't know what's going on. She just knows that they need each other.

Her drops her forehead against his arm and shakes her head.

"Everything's fucked up." He sounds miserable and pathetic, and all she wants to do is take care of him. "Everything's so fucked."

"I'm sorry..." She apologizes first, and she doesn't ask him to return it.

"God, Rachel..." And then his voice wavers and breaks off, and she knows the fact that he's turning his head to bury his face into the top of her hair is his way of apologizing.

They go home after that. When they get to his house, she's very thankful that Finn and Destiny aren't there. They go up to his room, and she gets him some Tylenol and some water because he's complaining of a headache. Then they go to bed, and they just lie there. His arm is over her hip, and he's holding her, and it feels very much like the first few nights after his mom died. That breaks her heart all over again, but it's also strangely comforting.

Eventually, they both fall asleep. He's out first, and she's sure that a lot of that has to do with the fact that he's consumed too much alcohol in a short amount of time. She just watches him sleep for awhile, listening to his breathing as it evens out until it's so slow that she _knows _she couldn't wake him now if she tried. He's always a heavy sleeper, but when he's drunk, he passes out and doesn't wake up for hours. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps, much younger than he normally does and almost kind of innocent. But, of course, there's nothing innocent about him.

The last time she looks at the clock, it's after one. Finn still hasn't come in, and she wonders if he's staying somewhere else tonight. It's almost weird knowing he's not right downstairs. She realizes for the first time that she doesn't hate this setup as much as she sometimes thinks.

But then she's asleep, and the next thing she knows, she's waking up to the sound of a rap song she despises. It takes her a second to realize that it's Noah's phone, and she's not surprised that he hasn't even stirred. The clock says 2:18, and her first thought is that Finn's calling. She crawls out of bed and drops to her knees to dig through the jeans Noah's discarded in the middle of his bedroom floor. She finds his phone and checks the ID. There's no name, just a number she doesn't recognize.

"Hello?"

"Who is this?" A man's voice demands her name, and she's not really sure why she answers.

"Rachel... Who is this?"

"Where the fuck is my daughter?"

"_What?"_

"Where the hell is my goddamn daughter?" He's louder now, nearly screaming, and that tone's way too familiar to put Rachel at any kind of ease.

She doesn't say another word. She sits there, stunned and scared, and he's raging at her from the other end of the phone.

"Tell that little bastard that I'll call the fucking police, and he can go to jail for kidnapping if he wants to play this shit!"

Rachel snaps the phone shut immediately. She's not sure she's breathing. Panic and dread are both building up inside of her, and she's not at all sure what to do. Finally, she stands up and climbs back onto the bed.

"Noah..." He doesn't move or give any indication that he hears her at all. She shakes him a little bit and speaks a little more loudly. _"Noah."_

He grumbles something, and she shakes him again until she sees his eyes flutter open and then squint at her. He's staring, obviously waiting for some kind of explanation as to why she's just woken him up in the middle of the night. She doesn't know what else to do, so she just swallows.

"Noah, I think Bekah ran away..."

… … …

A/N: Sniffles. I can't help feeling sorry for the kid, even when he's a total asshole. Anyway, reviews are always greatly appreciated! And thanks for all the requested prompts last time- I've got one out and am working on the second.


	15. May, Part 4

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter 14**

**MAY, PART 4**

… … …

The cops show up almost immediately.

Rachel's actually almost glad because she's more than a little nervous right now. She's seen just about every side, good and bad, that Noah has to offer, but she's _never _seen him like this. She's never actually been scared of him, but there's definitely some level of fear building inside of her. He's _crazy. _She's honestly afraid that he's going to get in his car, drive to his dad's, and _kill _him. She's not even really exaggerating because she's never seen him this angry or out of control.

It's scary.

She should probably call her parents, but she doesn't. For some reason, the only person she thinks to call is Finn, and he doesn't answer. She still doesn't know where he is, but considering the fact that it's going on three in the morning, she can't be _too _surprised that he doesn't pick up the phone. Rachel doesn't keep trying. Instead, she focuses all of her energy on trying to calm Noah down and keep him from doing something that he could potentially pay for for the rest of his life.

He calls his dad, even though she tells him not to. They spend ten minutes screaming and cussing each other out. Noah threatens him in every way possible, and Rachel can only imagine what his father is saying or threatening in return. Nothing gets resolved, of course, because Noah thinks his dad did something terrible that caused Bekah to run away, and his dad thinks Noah either came and got her or is hiding her somewhere. When they hang up, Noah starts calling Bekah's phone and getting no answer. He's screaming at her voicemail, threatening her, too, and demanding that she call him and tell him where the fuck she is. By the fifth or sixth call, he's turning a little desperate and begging.

The doorbell rings at 3:33, and Noah nearly breaks his neck running to the door. Rachel follows, of course, and they both think it's Bekah, but it's not. It's the police, and they flash their badges and ask if they can come in. Noah kind of glares at them and opens his mouth like he's about to say something really stupid, but Rachel interrupts him and tells them yes. Then she shoots him a look, and he shuts up and just lets them in.

There are two officers- a man named Dunbar and a woman named Morgan. They introduce themselves and explain why they're here.

"We're investigating a missing person's report on a child, Rebekah Puckerman."

Noah rolls his eyes, and Rachel's really not surprised because it's absolutely ridiculous that the officers think they need to explain what they're investigating. It's probably protocol, though, and they both have enough sense not to say what they're thinking.

"Your sister was reported missing two hours ago. Have you had any contact with her in the last twenty-four hours?"

"I haven't seen her in over a week because her asshole father won't let me!" The answer comes immediately, and Rachel suddenly really wishes she'd called her dad already.

"He's your father as well, isn't he?"

"Allegedly."

Rachel doesn't see this ending well. She doesn't even know if he knows what allegedly _means, _but she's pretty sure he's about to start saying way too much. Her suspicions are cemented when Officer Morgan asks the next question.

"How is your relationship with your father?"

Rachel is very aware that this is more a sneak interrogation than anything else. She's fully aware that Mr. Puckerman probably told the police Noah kidnapped Bekah, and they are here now to trick him into some kind of confession while trying to seem genuinely interested. Rachel's seen enough cop shows to know how they work, but Noah seems oblivious.

"There's not one," he answers flatly. "He ran off when I was a kid, and we never saw him again until my mom died and some asshole judge decided to give my sister to him! Even though he's an alcoholic and a child abuser."

Rachel sighs a little bit. She can't tell him to stop talking because it will look suspicious and also because he won't listen anyway. She gets up and goes into the kitchen, well aware of the fact that the police watch her the entire time she walks away. When she's out of their sight, though, she grabs her phone and finally calls her father. He's half-asleep when he answers.

"Dad, you need to come to Noah's," she says, not bothering to bother with any kind of greeting. "Bekah ran away, and the police are here. And I'm pretty sure they think we kidnapped her.

She doesn't even give him a chance to sputter around any sort of questions. She just hangs up and goes back to the living room because she doesn't trust Noah in there by himself. When she gets back, he's telling them all about Bekah getting in trouble at school and then getting suspended and how his father said she's not allowed to see anyone. They're acting interested and concerned, but Rachel doesn't trust it for a second. She thinks it's ironic because she's sure most people would expect him to be the suspicious one and her to be the naïve one, but he seems to have no issue whatsoever with telling his entire life story and possibly incriminating himself in some crime he didn't even commit.

So she decides to hijack the conversation.

"Do you know where Bekah is?" she asks quickly because, really, that's what this is all about anyway.

Officer Morgan answers. "If she's truly a runaway, we assume she can't have gotten very far yet. Her father said she was in bed around midnight but that she was missing when he went to check later."

"What do you mean _truly _ a runaway?" Noah might be catching on because that stops him and brings out his suspicions.

"The majority of missing children cases are kids in the middle of custody disputes and are found in the custody of non-custodial relatives."

Noah just stares at the officers, and Rachel holds her breath, wondering if he's going to snap. "You think I took my sister, don't you?"

The police are nonplussed. Officer Dunbar answers. "We are conducting an investigation. If your sister is missing, she will most likely be found here one way or another, whether by her own will or against."

Noah's stunned. He actually can't think of anything to say, or at least nothing that is appropriate to say to a police officer. Rachel's afraid he'll start saying things that are _not _appropriate, so she grabs his phone and starts flipping through it for reference.

"We've tried to call her over and over," she says quickly. "At least twelve or thirteen times. She hasn't answered at all."

"Do you mind if we take a look around?"

Rachel's not sure if they're supposed to allow that or not. There's nothing to hide, though. Bekah's not here, and she hasn't been here in nearly two weeks. She looks at Noah, and he looks seriously pissed now. She knows it's because he's putting together all of the pieces and realizing that the police are not on his side and that they are all but accusing him of a felony.

She _really _wishes her dad were here.

They tell the officers to look around, and Rachel sits with Noah in the living room while they do a walk-through of the house. His face is pale, and his eyes are dark. She knows he's way too close to exploding to be safe.

"Just don't do anything stupid," she warns quietly.

"Why are they _here _when they should be out finding my sister?" he hisses back. "They think it's safe for a little girl to be out by herself in the middle of the fucking night?"

"Once they see that she's not here, they'll go look for her." She hopes- she doesn't add this. "They'll find her."

"I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch," he says seriously. "Tell them I fucking _kidnapped _her! He's more concerned with fucking up _my _life than with taking care of Bekah's!"

"Noah, _please _don't say anything like that where they can hear you," she's whispering lowly. She can just imagine how a death threat would go over, especially since she's not even sure he's full of crap anymore.

He opens his mouth to say something back, but they're interrupted because they both look up to see who's coming through the front door. Rachel's first thought is of her father, but it's Finn. And the way that he's swaying a little bit lets her know that he's more than a little intoxicated.

"Why are the cops here?" he asks, shutting the door behind him and looking around.

"Did you _drive _here?" Rachel demands, getting up and going to see if his car's in the driveway. She can literally _smell _the alcohol on him.

"No, Josh dropped me off." She doesn't know who Josh is and doesn't care. Finn's just staring at her, still waiting for an explanation as to why there is a police car parked in the driveway. He looks over to where Noah's still looking like he might punch a thousandth hole through the wall.

"Bekah's missing," she explains quietly. "The police think she's here."

"Is she?"

"No!" She shakes her head. "We don't know where she is." She wonders how much trouble they can get in for having a drunk nineteen year old in the house. She's sure it won't help matters. "Finn, try to act sober," she pleads desperately. "Just sit down and don't say anything."

He kind of looks at her all confused again, but he does as she says and sits down on the sofa beside Noah. Rachel calls her dad again, praying that he's on his way.

"I'm pulling onto Alberdon," he says as soon as he answers. "Rachel, what the _hell _is going on?"

She feels like crying, but she's not sure she has anymore tears left to produce. "Bekah ran away, and I guess her dad called the police and told them she was probably here. But she's not, and we don't know where she is!"

"Are the police still there?"

"Yes," she lowers her voice. "They're looking around upstairs. I know they think we've got her..."

"Just calm down. What is Noah doing?" He sounds more worried with the second sentence, and Rachel figures he's probably got good reason. She doesn't really want to talk about it while he's within hearing distance, so she just gives a cryptic answer and hopes her father can translate it.

"Not the best."

"Don't let him do something moronic."

"I'm _trying," _she says seriously. "Please hurry up."

"Don't say anything else to the police until I get there."

"Okay." She's scared they've said too much already, which is ridiculous since they're guilty of absolutely _nothing. _She still can't shake the nervous feeling.

The police come back downstairs just after she hangs up, and they look first at the newest addition to the living room. Finn's looking scared out of his mind, probably because he's _drunk _out of his mind and definitely underage.

"This is Finn," Rachel introduces him mostly so he doesn't actually _speak. _"He's our friend."

"Do you live here, too?"

"He stays here sometimes." She glances over at the boys, silently willing them to stay quiet.

The officers look at her and then back at Finn, and then Officer Dunbar shakes his head a little and turns his attention back to Noah. "So we've just got a couple of questions about your sister."

Rachel interrupts before anyone else has a chance to speak. "My father's on his way," she says quickly. "I think we should wait for him."

"You're all adults, aren't you?"

"Yes, but my father asked us to wait." She hopes she doesn't have to go into much more detail. She just really wishes he'd get here already.

Almost like some miracle, she hears his car at that exact moment.

He comes in without knocking and introduces himself to the officers. He lets them know that he's an attorney involved in the custody case and asks for details on what's happening. The police seem annoyed that a lawyer has randomly shown up, but they're polite enough and try to provide an appropriate amount of details. Meanwhile, Rachel sits down between the boys and tries to gauge whether Finn's sobering up any and whether Noah is still at risk of committing murder. She thinks no to the first and yes to the second.

Fuck her life.

Really, how the _hell _did she get here?

"Well, since it's been established that Rebekah is not here, maybe we should move on to actually looking for her." Rachel loves the fact that her dad can be such an asshole when he wants to be, all while maintaining a polite and professional manner.

"We are covering all of our bases." Officer Dunbar sounds more than a little pissed now, probably because he's just been called out on wasting time.

"Yes, and now that you see she's not here, the focus needs to be on actually _locating _her," he says again. "She is barely twelve years old. It's the middle of the night. It is certainly not safe for her to be out alone. Has her social worker been contacted?"

"I'm sure she has." It's obvious that neither of the officers know this for a fact. "It's standard procedure to contact the state if one of its wards goes missing." Morgan glances back to the couch once more. "We would like to ask your client a few more questions if that's alright."

"Are they questions that will be useful in locating his sister?"

"They are standard questions. We are conducting a thorough investigation."

"I don't want to answer anymore fucking questions," Noah says lowly, and Rachel can tell the anger's building behind his eyes. "I just want to find my sister."

Morgan ignores him. "You haven't had any contact with your sister today, is that correct?"

"I already told you," he says evenly, "I haven't talked to her in more than a week."

"She was recently suspended from school. Are you aware?"

"Um, yes." Noah rolls his eyes, and Rachel knows he's closing in on being a sarcastic dick. She doesn't really blame him, but she can't imagine it will help.

"Has she been in trouble before?"

"Not until she went to live with _that _asshole!"

"Her mother died unexpectedly." Rachel's thankful that her dad is there to step in. "She has been in grief counseling, but obviously that type of life-changing event is taking its toll. Understandably."

"I'm going to look for Bekah." Noah makes the announcement without hesitation. He seems to be just over the entire thing as he stands up. He looks back at her and Finn. "You guys coming?"

Rachel glances at her dad. He doesn't look like he's extremely up for the idea of her running off in the middle of the night with two boys- one of which is on a murderous rampage and the other of which is clearly extremely drunk. Still, he just raises his eyebrows and lets out a little sigh.

They end up driving all around Lima and finding nothing. They literally cover every _mile _of the town, but they rarely see anything. There are barely any other cars on the road, and they definitely do not find any sixth graders walking around by themselves. Rachel's really starting to get scared, mostly because she can't imagine where Bekah could be. Or really even _why _she would run away. Noah continues to call her every ten minutes, but her voicemail eventually fills up, so he has to stop leaving messages.

She really, _really _tries to stop him from driving to his father's apartment.

She shouldn't have let him drive at all probably. They're in her car because his is still parked at Mike's. He's probably still at least a little intoxicated, even if he's not showing it. And he's also far too emotional to probably drive safely. Mostly, though, she should have just predicted that this is where they would end up.

"Noah, do _not _go up there," she says sharply when he pulls into the parking lot. They've been fighting for the last however minutes it's been since she realized where they were going. He's been ignoring her, and she's been threatening to call her dad, like that has any type of influence on his actions at all. It doesn't, and he's clearly not concerned at all with her threat. He parks the car and turns off the engine. He gets out without another word to anyone, and Rachel's left shrieking at him to get back in the car as he slams the door behind him.

She turns to the backseat and glares at Finn who's just sitting there being _useless. _"Go after him! He's going to _kill _him!"

And because she really, truly believes that, she gets out of the car, too, and goes running across the parking lot. She catches up with Noah quickly, but he keeps walking and ignoring her as she does everything she can to get him to just go back to the car. She can't do anything to restrain him because he's so much stronger than her, and he just shrugs her off every time she tries to grab for his arm or his hand. Finn's bigger, though, and actually manages to stop him when they're just about five feet from the door.

"Dude! Stop!"

And somebody's about to get punched, Rachel's sure of it. All she can do is hope that the extra thirty or however many pounds Finn's got are enough to hold him off. But she kind of thinks that when someone's as angry as Noah currently is, no amount of extra weight or height is enough to stop him.

The amount of struggling and yelling, though, is apparently enough to draw attention, and the door to the apartment's flying open. Rachel freaks out immediately, mostly because nobody stands a chance when Noah decides to literally _force _his way into the apartment by shoving his father into the door frame. Rachel looks at Finn because she doesn't know what else to do, and the shouting that immediately ensues from inside the second Mr. Puckerman decides to go back in doesn't bode well for much of anything.

Rachel doesn't move. She looks at Finn, and then they finally move to the front porch together. Finn's the one who actually closes the door, but Rachel kind of thinks it was a joint decision. They don't need to be in there. This isn't their fight, and as long as no one dies, maybe it needs to be had. So she and Finn just stand there, and it's impossible _not _to hear what's going on inside. There's fighting and accusations and so much screaming... But within just a few minutes, the entire thing turns pretty one-sided, and they really only hear one voice.

"I just want to know where my fucking sister is!"

It's close to 5 AM. It won't be too long before the sun will be up. Rachel feels exhausted and wide-awake all at once. She also feels like nothing in the entire world is going even remotely right.

"Why weren't you _watching _her? She's just a kid!"

The yelling continues. Rachel knows Finn is just as uncomfortable as she is, so she follows his lead when he sits down and leans his back against the wall of the building. They can still hear every word that's being said inside, and they still only hear one voice. She wonders why that is and prays that it's not because only one of them is still breathing.

There's a lot more yelling. Noah's angry and probably rightfully so. He seems to be screaming anything that comes into his head about how all of this is his dad's fault and how he would never let Bekah go missing if she was living with him. There's no back and forth, though. It continues to be one-sided, and it's not long before it dips into something more sad than angry.

"Why did you even have to come back here? Why couldn't you just leave us the fuck alone?" Rachel closes her eyes and leans her head backwards against the wall. "We were fine without you! All you've done is fuck shit up even more!"

There must be a response then because they don't hear any yelling. Rachel can only assume this means that an answer is being formulated in a normal, quiet, indoor voice. Part of her wants to know what's being said, but she knows it's not her conversation.

"Don't stand there and fucking _lie!" _Noah's voice shocks her a second later when it once again comes blaring from inside the apartment. "You never gave a shit about me or my mom _or _Bekah! Don't you think I remember every fucking thing you ever did? Maybe Bekah was too young, but I remember all of it!"

There's a longer pause this time, but Rachel keeps her eyes shut tightly, thinking that maybe if she can't see it, it won't be real. Of course, that's not true.

"No! You know what's not fair? The fact that my mom is dead and that you're standing there breathing! Like somehow God fucked up and decided you were more deserving to be here than she was! And that's just... _fucked!"_

Rachel can hear Finn breathing beside her, slow and probably somewhat uncomfortable. She knows he must be feeling just as awkward and out of place as she is.

"Don't fucking talk about her!" Noah sounds borderline hysterical now. "She did _everything _for us! For _you! _All you ever did was fucking hurt her! _You _should be the one fucking rotting in the ground, not her! It's not fair!"

There's a huge crash after that, and Rachel's eyes fly open as she looks at Finn. Either someone's been hit, something's been thrown, or something's been knocked over. She and Finn stare at each other, both obviously trying to decide whether they should go investigate. They're distracted, though, when a police car turns into the parking lot, and somehow Rachel starts tuning out everything that's going on inside the apartment.

The same two officers from earlier get out of the car and make their way up to the building. They look at Rachel and Finn sitting there and probably deduce that things aren't overly cheerful inside.

"Did you find Bekah?" Finn asks in a voice that sounds much too small for him. Officer Morgan just shakes her head and the knocks on the door. It's Mr. Puckerman who answers it, and he's alive and not bleeding, so Rachel's kind of worried that it's Noah who's just been knocked out. Mostly she hopes the crash was caused by pretty much _anything _that doesn't involve someone's fist. The cops go inside, but Rachel and Finn make no move to follow. They just sit there in silence, listening to nothing as all the conflict inside seems to have ceased.

It seems like hours before Finn finally speaks and breaks the silence. "Do you remember his dad from before?"

"A little." Rachel leans her head back against the wall again. She has vague memories of him randomly showing up at temple, but he wasn't there often and it's not as if she and Noah were ever friends. "Do you?"

"Yeah." Finn swallows, and she turns her head to look at him. "But I guess I didn't realize..." He stops for a second and then changes directions. "He took us to a ballgame once. Like one of those stupid traveling leagues... I think we were like nine or ten or something, but I mean, I just thought he was cool. And I was kinda jealous. That's fucked up, isn't it?"

Rachel turns her lips inward and shakes her head. "No. I wanted any kind of mom when I was little."

Finn just looks at her for a few seconds, and then he puts an arm around her, tugging her a little closer. Maybe it should feel weirder than it does, but it doesn't bother her.

She doesn't know how long they sit there. There's no more noise coming from inside the house, so apparently the addition of the police has calmed the situation down tremendously. Rachel's still nervous; her stomach actually feels sick, and her head is hurting from what is an obviously lack of sleep. The sky's lightening up a little bit, and she expects the sun to come up pretty soon. There's been too much drama for one night, and part of her just wants to go to sleep. She doesn't, though, because someone comes up to the porch. Rachel hears it, and opens her eyes.

"Hey..."

She lets out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. Bekah's standing there, looking tired and messy and mostly like she's been crying for a really long time. But she's okay and she's not bleeding or hurt, so that's the most important thing. She looks at them, and Rachel doesn't know what to say so Finn says it for her.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Bekah's face falls even further. "I'm in a lot of trouble, aren't I?"

"Yes!" Finn says that, too, and Rachel shoots him a glare before standing up and shaking her head. Truthfully, she probably_ is _in a lot of trouble (and maybe even rightfully so), but it's not fair to worry her when she already looks like hell.

Bekah hugs her. It's kind of surprising, but she wraps both arms around Rachel's waist and presses her face into her shoulder. Bekah's only a few inches shorter, and that kind of makes Rachel sad because she used to be a little girl, and now she's... not. But Rachel seriously loves this girl like she was her own sister. She knows Finn does, too, so maybe that's why he's being so harsh.

"I didn't run away," Bekah mumbles without lifting her face. "I just wanted to be by myself for a little while..."

"Everyone was worried," Rachel says gently, attempting to smooth out some of the tangled mess that's currently Bekah's hair.

"I know. And mad."

"Nobody's mad, just really worried."

"Noah screamed at me for twenty-two voicemails..."

Rachel wants to laugh, but she doesn't. It's too serious a situation to laugh, but she feels like such a weight has been lifted anyway. "Why didn't you answer?"

Bekah finally lifts her head and sighs a little bit when she steps away. "I came back and saw the cops... And then I heard the messages, and I just got scared. I swear I didn't run away."

Rachel nods, not at all sure what's going to happen next.

The scene in the living room is calm when Rachel pushes open the front door of the apartment. Both Noah and his father are seated on the couch, while the officers are seated in armchairs. There's paperwork and quiet conversation, but all of it stops when the door opens. Rachel's pretty sure she sees relief on every single person's face when they see Bekah standing there with her. Bekah, though, just looks sad and lets her eyes wander.

She might physically be unharmed, but she's _definitely _not okay.

… … …

A/N:: Thanks for reading! Reviews are much appreciated!


	16. Owed

**OWED**

… … …

He still believes in God.

Most days.

Sometimes, though, he finds it really hard to wrap his head around the fact that there's supposedly some sort of higher power whose entire purpose is take care of them and watch over them when he really feels like his whole world is one big ball of shitfest. Because seriously, if God's real, then why does he let such shitty things happen?

So on some days, he thinks about God and thinks _screw it._

Bekah's in a fucking _group home_. Temporarily. Supposedly. The social worker came and picked her up the day after the whole "running away" fiasco, and the state decided she needed to be placed in a state run facility "for the time being" until a more thorough investigation could be completed. And he like fucking hates the fact that his sister's living in some glorified orphanage because that's not how it's supposed to be. _None _of this is how it's supposed to be, and he hates it.

Bekah calls him every day, sometimes she's crying, sometimes she's pissed off and cussing more than is probably normal for a twelve year old. He hates all of it, and those are the days when he thinks God's gotta be some kind of big joke or something because there's no way this shit should really be happening.

It's just like... none of this is what anyone wanted.

It's not what he wanted, it's not what Bekah wanted, fuck, he doesn't even think it's what his _dad _wanted. It's just bullshit.

Everything's so shitty. His whole life is just _so shitty. _His mom's dead, so that's shitty. His dad's an asshole, so that's shitty. He had to drop out of school, so that's shitty. His sister's sharing a room with three girls she doesn't even know, so that's shitty. He has to work at some shitty restaurant just to get a little money, and _that's _shitty, too. Everything's just shitty.

But Rachel's in his bed pretty much every morning when he wakes up, and that's like the only thing that's _not _shitty.

He's a pussy, yeah. Probably. But whatever, because he's only got one good thing in his life, so fucking sue him for trying to focus on it. She's just like... _perfect, _and sometimes he hates himself for being so _not _perfect. Sometimes he just thinks about how much she deserves and how he doesn't have pretty much any of that. And it just sucks. Because he really, really wants her to have it, but he also really, really wants to have _her. _It's probably selfish.

He should treat her better, he knows it. They fight over really stupid shit sometimes, just because sometimes he feels like it's easier to push her away than to just be happy. He takes all kinds of shit out on her, and most of it doesn't even have anything to do with her. He doesn't know why he does it, but he kind of thinks it's just because he knows she won't leave him over some stupid bullshit, no matter how much of an ass he's being. That's fucked up, and he shouldn't do it. But it's really the only thing he can come up with when he tries to figure out why he's such a dick sometimes. Such a dick to _her _anyway, when she's like one of the only people in the world who doesn't deserve it. Plus, he's just _comfortable _with her. He knows they can fight and they can get over it.

But he needs to stop because what if one day they don't just get over it?

He can't lose her. _Won't _lose her. No matter what.

So he wakes her up one morning by kissing her shoulder and telling her how pretty she is, and he doesn't give a fuck if it makes him a total girl or something because it's not like anyone else can see. And whatever, it's the truth. And when her eyes flutter open and she looks at him, he just blinks at her and says, "Hi," and kisses her for real. He doesn't even care about the fact that neither of them have brushed their teeth because she seriously never has morning breath, and she never seems to care about his.

It sucks because in a couple of months, she's going to be back in New York, and he's going to be stuck in Lima missing her worse than ever. It's not fucking fair that he has to _miss _everyone he cares about so fucking much. He doesn't want to miss her. He wants to keep waking up like this, wants to know that she's never more than an arm length's away when he wakes up in the middle of the night after some fucked up dream where he keeps seeing his mom over and over but not like his _real _mom- no, the one on that metal table with the smashed in face and the half-shaved head from a surgery that didn't fucking work. He doesn't want her to be a million miles away in New York City because phone calls aren't as good as just being able to reach over and touch her.

"I love you," he whispers against her lips, and it doesn't bother him at all anymore. He wants to tell her all the time because he knows from experience that sometimes you don't realize a moment can really be your last. He just wants to make sure she knows, and even though he knows she does, he just wants to tell her.

He misses her when he's at work, but he goes anyway because it's money. And he always needs money. Most of his mom's life insurance money is in savings, and he doesn't plan on touching it at all until Bekah's ready for college or something. He used some of it to pay up the mortgage for a few months, but he knows he's got to sell the house. He can't afford it, and it needs to go. But it's kind of just fucking hard to think about, so he keeps putting off actually _doing _anything about it. There's supposedly some giant lawsuit settlement waiting for him, but he's not holding his breath. And if it does actually come through, it's probably going to take two years or more. He's got to have some kind of money in the meantime, so Breadstix is his reality.

He goes to work, and she goes to some vocal lesson, and it kind of makes him miss hearing her sing all the time. She used to use every extra breath she had to push out some random song, but he hasn't actually heard her sing anything in a really long time. The closest he ever comes is hearing her sing along to the radio or something, and he kind of misses it. She's got like more talent than anyone else he's ever known, probably more than everyone else put together. So that's why he feels like a shithead when he thinks about how much it sucks when she's in New York. She _needs _to be in New York because that's the only place that's ever going to appreciate her. Lima fucking Ohio sure as hell never will.

But it still sucks.

He gets permission to pick Bekah up on a Saturday and keep her for three hours. It's stupid because it feels like some fucked up kind of visitation that he shouldn't have to be dealing with because she's his sister, and he should be able to see her whenever he wants to. But he keeps his mouth shut because he doesn't think going off on her social worker will help his chances when it goes to trial. He has to sign some papers and shit before he can even take her, and it's just all stupid. But she looks happy enough to see him and practically runs out to his truck. She asks where Rachel is, and he tells her that she's at her grandparents' house for the day, and Bekah seems kind of disappointed but gets over it soon enough when he takes her for pizza at her favorite restaurant.

"What happened to your lip?" They're waiting for their food, and he notices for the first time that her upper lip is a lot redder than her bottom one and that it kind of looks swollen and maybe like it's been split.

Bekah just shrugs and says, "I got in a fight," like it's no big fucking deal.

When she got suspended from school, it was for getting in a fight with some dickwad little boy who supposedly called her a bitch. According to the cafeteria monitor, Bekah shoved him and he pushed her back, so she hit him and then picked up cafeteria tray and smashed him across the head with it. The kid ended up with nine stitches, and Bekah ended up with five days worth of suspension. When he asks for the details of the current fight, he finds out that one of the girls she shares a room with always "looks at her wrong" and that she just got sick of it and hit the girl and that they ended up fighting in their bedroom until two of their other roommates pulled them apart.

She says it like it's so normal, and it makes him crazy.

"What the fuck are you thinking? You don't go around just hitting people for the hell of it!"

And Bekah just kind of raises an eyebrow and takes a drink of her Dr. Pepper. "You do."

And probably karma really _is _a bitch. Probably one he fucked and never called again. Because what can he even say to that?

"It feels good." She looks over his shoulder and keeps sucking through her straw.

He'd like to call her on her bullshit, but he can't really. Because he doesn't think it _is _bullshit. Other people might not get it, but he knows that sometimes hitting someone (or hell, even _getting _hit) just feels good. It's a rush. It makes you feel powerful and out of control at the same time, and it's fucking weird as shit, but he knows what she's talking about.

It doesn't mean he approves of it.

"Stop it," he says seriously, and he means it. "Don't get in anymore fucking fights."

"People need to leave me alone," she says bitterly, and he really has to just roll his eyes.

"I'm serious. Next time you do that shit, _I'll _kick your fucking ass."

"No, you won't."

And he won't, she's right. But he pretty much hates that she knows that. He doesn't know how he's supposed to lecture her on fighting when he's been in more fights than he can remember. So he tries a different tactic.

"What the hell do you think Mom would say if she knew you were doing that shit?"

Bekah blinks, and then she looks down at the table. He wants to yell at her or something, but he thinks pulling out the guilt will work well enough. Even if it's kind of a low blow, it's also the truth. His mom would be pissed, and there's no way she'd let Bekah get away with that crap.

"Mom's not here," she mutters. "So I guess it doesn't fucking matter what she'd say."

He's like for real seriously _shocked _that that's her response. She's still looking at the table, and she's even barely speaking because mumbling and muttering doesn't really cut it. But he can hear her, and that's definitely what she said.

"What the fuck is going on in your head?" he demands, pretty pissed that she'd even _try _saying some shit like that with him.

"Nothing." She looks up and stares at him.

"Why would you even say some shit like that?"

"Because it's true." She doesn't even seem intimidated, and she's speaking a lot more clearly now. "Why does it matter what Mom would say when she's not even here? And it's not like she's coming back."

"Yeah, like that's her fault."

"She could have tried harder." Bekah just talks like she's telling him the weather forecast. "She didn't even say bye. I mean, she could have tried harder so she could at least say bye."

"She fucking _died, _Bekah, I don't think she walked out of the house that morning knowing some asshole was going to sideswipe her car."

Bekah just shrugs. "She's gone. She left and didn't even say bye. Dad left, and he didn't even say bye." She hesitates for a second. "At least he came back."

"Shut your fucking mouth." He's dead serious, too. He's never actually wanted to hit her before, but he literally has to stop himself from reaching across the table and smacking her.

Bekah looks annoyed. Her eyes roll a little bit, and she looks bored. He wonders how much of this is just his past coming back to bite him in the ass because he was twelve once, and he's pretty sure that's about the time he started being a _total _asshole. It's also about the time he started smoking weed and skipping school and putting his hand up girls' shirts. If she starts doing all that shit, too, he'll probably have to figure out a way to kick his _own _ass. For the time being, though, he just focuses on the current situation.

"Don't ever talk about her like that," he says seriously, and he means it. "She didn't _choose _to leave. _He _did. So don't even fucking compare them."

"It's always about you and him," she shoots back, and she does it in a way that kind of makes him think she's been planning this in her head. "This shit isn't even _about _me, so why am I always in the fucking middle?" Her voice gets louder toward the end, and he glances around to see if anyone's staring yet.

Then he takes time to actually register her words.

He hasn't really thought about it like that. He's never sat down and really thought past the fact that she's his sister and _he's _the one who's been there her whole life. He's never gotten past the part where he sees his dad exactly the way he saw him eight years ago when he fucked off for good. He knows he's got blinders on where his father's concerned, but what the fuck does anyone expect? He _knows _who his dad is, and it doesn't matter if he shows back up dressed in a button up and khakis with a handful of AA chips, he still _knows _him.

Because no matter what anyone else thinks, he fucking remembers it. Remembers _all _of it. And he knows what it's like to be five years old and see your mom get slammed into a wall. And he knows what it's like to be seven and hear your parents fighting because there's a new baby on its away and _what the fuck, I didn't even want the first one! _And he knows exactly what it's like to be nine with a broken arm and a busted lip and an ER doctor who looks way more suspicious at your lie of a bike wreck than your own mom ever does.

He remembers all that shit and _knows _what it's like, and he's fucking glad that Bekah doesn't. But maybe if she did, she'd understand that it's about a hell of a lot more than just some fucked up mind-game.

She says she's not hungry when the food actually arrives, and he really _isn't _hungry, so they just kind of sit there and stare at each other. And Bekah looks mad as hell but also like she might burst into tears at any second. It's weird how much she's grown up in the past few months. He never really noticed before how _big _she is and how she's like almost a teenager and shit. He still thinks she's a little kid, but she's really not. And that kind of sucks.

He takes her back to the group home, and she barely says bye before she's heading upstairs to her room. And he feels like the biggest asshole ever.

When he gets home, Rachel's back from her grandparents'. She's cooking dinner, and Finn's sitting on the counter reading off some recipe to her. It's not as fucked up as it probably should be, and he kind of thinks Santana walking in the door would just bring everything to a full circle. She doesn't, though. It's Destiny who shows up twenty minutes later with a bottle of wine and a DVD from Redbox. So they all sit in the living room eating whatever pasta thing Rachel's made (it's kind of gross, but nobody tells her) and drinking wine while they watch some dumbass exorcism movie that makes him roll his eyes, Finn look halfway confused, Rachel giggle, and Destiny actually jump.

Rachel's in a good mood by the time they go to bed- two glasses of wine is just enough for her. She asks him for the first time how it went with Bekah, and he just tells her because even though she's in a wine-induced kind of semi-bliss, he's still just pissed off. She looks like she feels bad for him and hugs him, and he kind of thinks she's probably the most perfect person on the planet. She just makes him feel like maybe everything's _not _as shitty as it seems.

He's got his face in her hair when she tells him, "Maybe you should talk to your dad..." And he blames some of it on the fact that her shampoo smells so good and the rest on the wine (that hasn't even _begun _to affect him), but he agrees.

They plan to meet for dinner on Tuesday, and he really, _really _doesn't want to go. Rachel asks if he needs her to go with him, and he does. He needs her to go _everywhere _with him. But he tells her he doesn't because this is seriously something he has to do by himself. And even if he wants her there to hold his hand and slip an arm around his waist, he has to do it alone. And anyway, he probably should have done this five months ago when his dad first showed back up.

They go to some stupid Mexican place that's cheap but always makes everyone sick. They don't really say much as they sit down at their table and look over the menus. He pretty much knows the menu by heart, but he needs something to do so that he doesn't have to speak. When the waitress comes, he orders a beer because he knows for a fact that this place never checks ID, and his dad asks for water.

And the first words out of his dad's mouths when their drinks are delivered are, "You need to be careful with that stuff."

And obviously that does nothing but piss him off because what the fuck? "Are you seriously trying to lecture me?" He takes a long drink just to emphasize his question.

"Just trying to warn you. It catches up with you."

He shouldn't have come here. This was a stupid idea, and he knows it already. It's going to end in someone dying or at least some kind of fight. He just shakes his head. "Well, here's a giant newsflash. I'm not you."

His dad just raises an eyebrow but says nothing. It's like looking in a fucking mirror, and he _hates _it. He hates that they have the same eyes and that they look so much alike. When he was little, people used to always comment- always _you look just like your dad! _And obviously that shit doesn't change because he still looks just like him, and it pisses him off to no end.

"We need to talk about Bekah." His dad's clearly trying to keep the conversation on track, and it's probably for the best. If they start talking about anything else, shit will probably turn ugly pretty fast.

"She's fucked up."

"She was doing okay for awhile."

He hates that it's the truth. He hates that she was okay and that now she's suddenly _not. _It's like she's having some kind of delayed reaction, and it's weird and not fair and he hates it.

Mostly he just hates his dad for letting it happen like that.

"I talked to the case worker. They're putting her in extra counseling sessions." His dad sighs a little and goes on. "They're also looking into tutoring if she doesn't start improving in school."

That's dumb considering the school year's over in like two weeks. He doesn't say that. He just rolls his eyes because what the hell do they think more counseling's going to do? The shit she's already in is apparently useless, so why are they forcing her into more?

"She doesn't need that shit," he says firmly. "She just needs somebody who actually gives a fuck."

It's a hidden insult that's not so camouflaged. His dad obviously spots it right away, but he doesn't let it show.

"You might benefit from some kind of counseling, too."

And seriously? What. The. Fuck.

"You don't fucking know me, okay? So don't even try to act like you know some shit." He's pissed, but seriously, who the hell does this bastard think he is?

"I know you're angry."

And really, all he can do is kind of sit there with his mouth open because he really can't believe this is even happening. He wants to hit something. Hard. But then he thinks about Bekah, and he doesn't.

"You know fuck all about _anything," _he struggles to keep his voice even.

"I'm sorry."

It's two words, and they're probably supposed to make him feel better. They might even be the only thing he's been waiting on for years or maybe his whole fucking life, but right now, they just piss him the hell off. And he thinks it says a lot that he doesn't stand up and just break his fist on this asshole's nose.

"I don't give a shit," he says honestly. "And I don't fucking believe that anyway. This isn't about you."

"There's a lot I wish I could do over."

And he rolls his eyes because what? Is he supposed to care? "Too bad this is real life," he says bitterly. And then he repeats, "I don't give a shit."

"I am trying to have a conversation with you, Noah."

And that's what _really _pisses him off because that hasn't been his name in a really long fucking time, and the only people who still call him that are the ones who like actually _really _care. Like his sister and Rachel and his mom before she died. And he doesn't really know what else his dad _would _call him, but it still makes him mad. So he snaps a little bit too quickly.

"I don't want to have some conversation with you where you try to get rid of some guilt and make yourself feel better because if you really cared, you would have said that shit years ago! You wouldn't have waited until my mom was dead and showed back up suddenly like the past however many fucking years didn't happen."

"I wanted to tell you before." His voice is very calm, and it's almost kind of eerie. "I talked to your mother. A couple of years ago. She said not to contact you."

He stops for a second and takes that in. He's never heard it before. His mom never mentioned talking to his father at all, so it's weird to hear that it happened. He's not even sure he believes. Even if it's true, though, it doesn't change anything. None of that fucking matters. When people hear that shit in movies- that one parent tried to get in touch and the other wouldn't let them- it always makes that person angry and resentful, but he doesn't feel like that. Even if it's true, he doesn't blame his mom. A couple of years ago, he had even less impulse control than he has now. If his dad showed up spouting off some bullshit apology, it would have been really bad for pretty much everyone involved.

His mom was smart enough to know that.

"Yeah," he snaps hatefully. "You should've listened to her and just stayed away for good."

His dad looks kind of regretful, kind of like he might really feel bad about some of this shit. It's stupid. "I know I did a lot of fucked up things," he says slowly. "And I know I put you through a lot of stuff you shouldn't have had to go through... But I _am _sorry. You need to know that."

"I don't _care."_

"One day when you have kids, you'll know that making mistakes with them is something you regret your whole life."

"I already have a kid," he says immediately. And he doesn't know _why _he says it. It kind of just slips out, and his dad just stares at him.

"What?"

He should just shut up, but his mouth just keeps going. "Yeah. A little girl. Beth. She's three." He takes an angry gulp from his beer. "But you don't even know that. You don't know _anything _because you were never fucking around for it."

His father's confused. He can tell. "Where is she?" he asks quietly.

He doesn't even know why he's having this conversation. Or why the hell he brought _Beth _into it. He's usually pretty good at acting like that never happened. It's a lot easier. But it's out there now.

"We had to give her up," he mutters. "For adoption. And I _do _regret that shit." His voice gets a little edgier. "Because every fucking day I wonder if she thinks I just fucked off and left her because I didn't _want _her. And I know how that shit feels."

There's a weird expression on his father's face. It might be regret or sadness or something else, he doesn't know. "The best thing I ever did for you was leave," he says lowly.

It's probably the fucking truth. He doesn't want to admit it, of course, but it's probably true. Things were better after he left. But it still sucked.

"The best thing you ever did," he counters, "was teach me everything _not _to be."

Their food arrives then, and the server puts their plates down, warning them of the hotness. And she asks if they want more drinks. He orders Coke this time.

"I _am _sorry, Noah. I know you don't care, and I know it doesn't change anything. But I can't change the past, either, and I'm just trying to fix the now."

It all sounds so easy. Like they can just wave some kind of magic wand, and everything that happened before can just disappear. But that shit's not real. They can't just erase it. He doesn't even really want to.

"I don't need you to fix anything," he says seriously, and he drops his voice back to a more controlled level. "I don't need _you. _Okay, I've fucking got everything I need. And I can take care of myself. And I've got this fucking amazing girl, and I would never treat her the way you treated my mom. So that's what I got from you, and that's all I need."

He expects some kind of argument. Or at least some kind of defense. He expects to hear some bullshit lie like _I loved your mother, _but all he gets is a nod. And it's kind of forced, he can tell, but it's there. So he goes on.

"I've never asked you for _shit. _But I'm asking you now to just _please _don't take my sister away from me." He doesn't even realize how desperate he sounds until the words are leaving his mouth, and by then he doesn't even care. "She's the only fucking thing I have left..."

_Of my mom._

He doesn't say the last part because it hurts too much. But it's the truth. He loves his sister, but it's more than that. His mom wouldn't want them apart. And Bekah's the only family he's got. The only one who counts anyway. And he just fucking _needs _her. And he's not stupid. Even if she's in some fucking group home now, she's going to end up with their dad, and he just needs some kind of promise that he won't take her away. Because he just doesn't want to lose anyone else. He doesn't think he _can._

"Please," he says again, and he doesn't even care if he sounds like a douche. "You fucking owe me _something."_

There's a lot of silence after that, and he stabs around at his burrito and doesn't really look anywhere else. It took a lot to say that, and he kind of hates himself for being so desperate, but whatever. He's known for awhile now that he doesn't have a shot in hell of getting Bekah. Maybe he's been deluding himself, but people have been telling him from the very first day that he didn't really have a chance. All he's been doing is hanging onto some kind of fucked up thread of hope. And god, the fucking Berrys. And not just Rachel, but her dads, too. They're probably the only people who give a real fuck about him, so they've been doing whatever they can to help. Even if he's sure they all know it's just as pointless as he does.

"You can have her."

The words like catch in his ears or something, and he has to think about them to make sure he heard them right. He looks up, and his dad is staring at him. He looks kind of miserable or resigned or some shit. It's weird.

"What?"

"You can have her," he repeats, and then there's another couple seconds of silence. "If they say it's okay. I'll tell them you should."

He doesn't know what's going on right now. "Why would you do that?"

"I'm trying to fix something." It's like the second time he's said it, and it still doesn't make any fucking sense. "I've been trying, but... She wants to be with you. And you can do it."

"Are you serious?"

"Look, I'm trying to do the right thing. I know I fucked up. A lot. But..." He sighs again and shakes his head a little. "You guys need to be together, and I'll help you if you want... But she needs to be with you."

"I don't need your help."

His dad frowns, but he nods anyway.

"But maybe Bekah does," he adds a second later. "So maybe you can help her."

He goes to Rachel's after dinner, and he sits in her living room with her and her parents. He pulls her onto his lap and won't let her go, and she doesn't really try to go anywhere else, either, which is good because she fits like fucking perfectly. He tells them everything, about everything his dad said and how he promised to contact the state the next day and talk to them. And everyone's as shocked as he is, and her dad gets on the phone with his other lawyer and tells him everything that's going on. Rachel's smiling really big, and he can tell she's really happy. And he just holds her in his lap because he doesn't want her to go anywhere else probably ever.

Later, they go up to her room to go to bed, and he kisses her really slow against all those pink pillows, and _fuck, _she's so fucking perfect. So he tells her that, and she just smiles all pretty and tells him compliments are always a good thing. Her foot's sliding up his ankle, and even if she's not trying very hard, she's still turning him on like crazy. But a lot of that's probably because he thinks about fucking her like pretty much _all _the time. So it's not like it takes a lot. So he rolls her over even further and sets to work making sure she _knows _how perfect she is.

And maybe, _maybe, _things are finally okay.

… … …

A/N: So _obviously _this was a POV change, and I know some people don't like that. But this was an important conversation that needed to take place, and as much as Rachel's involved in his life, she can't be there for every second. So... we have this. Hope you guys liked it anyway, and please review!


	17. June, Part 1

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter 15**

**JUNE, PART 1**

… … …

Bekah's back home a week after school lets out.

The social worker and the other people involved on the state's end warn that it's a "trial run," and the judge pretty much tells Noah that they'll be checking in regularly. That means a couple of things- mostly it means that big changes have to take place at home. If the social worker people are going to be randomly dropping in, the house has to be _clean. _Also, there can't really be evidence that Rachel's living upstairs or that Finn and Destiny are pretty much living on the sofa. They have to get the beer and the occasional pot and whatever else is illegal and immoral and move it out. It needs to appear like a nice, normal, _safe _place where two siblings live alone together successfully.

What that really means is that they just have to _hide _all of those things.

It's not really that difficult.

The bad news, though, is that they weren't exaggerating with their promise to check in regularly. Social services is checking up nearly every other day, sometimes just with a phone call and sometimes with a surprise visit. Apparently they don't trust that a nineteen year old can really be responsible for a child, which is kind of silly since he's been taking care of her her whole life. But it's okay. Or at least it'll probably be okay.

Bekah alternates between being fine and being totally weird. It's almost like she's got split personality disorder. Noah calls it demonic possession. Rachel thinks it's probably just puberty.

Luckily, though, Bekah's always been pretty attached to Rachel. She might be evil to her brother on occasion and, more often, to Finn, but she's usually pretty okay with Rachel.

One day, they're in the kitchen together while Noah's at work. Bekah's doing some homework for her tutor and complaining every five seconds about how she doesn't _care _how plants reproduce, and Rachel's checking her email from the laptop. They're the only ones home, and it's pretty quiet. Rachel doesn't necessarily consider it babysitting because Bekah's pretty much old enough to stay by herself, but they're doing their best to make sure she feels as comforted as possible. Also, they're never really sure when social services might drop by, so it's probably best if Bekah doesn't answer the door and say she's alone with no supervision.

"This is so stupid!" Bekah practically growls as she looks up heatedly.

"What's stupid?"

"All this shit!" She rolls her eyes, and it's obvious that she's frustrated. She glares at the science book. "It's all dumb, and I don't care about any of this crap."

Considering the fact that she came very close to failing sixth grade, summer tutoring should be a welcome event. Bekah, though, doesn't see it that way and has repeatedly said she'd rather just be in summer school. She says this, of course, because she can get by in summer school the same way she got by during the regular school year. Her tutor, though, is a lot tougher, requires more homework, and actually holds her accountable for missed assignments and poor work. Of course, the private tutoring costs enough that it _better _be effective. Noah's working six days a week just to pay for it, but he's pretty adamant that she have it and that she take it seriously. Bekah, though, just doesn't want to be too cooperative. Rachel's honestly not sure if she's actually having trouble with the work or if she just doesn't want to do it. She's never had trouble in school before, but there's always a possibility that she might actually be having a difficult time. More than likely, though, she's probably just at the point where she no longer cares about school or making decent grades.

Rachel closes out her email and decides Bekah could use a break. She grabs two bottles of water from the fridge and slides one across the table. Bekah catches it and takes that as unspoken permission to temporarily abandon her work. They talk for a few minutes about nothing important, comparing celebrity gossip that they've both heard over the past couple of days. It's fun, and Rachel really doesn't mind that Bek's not as young as she used to be. In some ways, it kind of sucks, but she feels more like a real person and less like a kid.

Maybe that's why it's so easy to fall into the next level of conversation. Bekah's actually the one who initiates it, and really, it kind of comes out of nowhere.

"What'd you do without a mom?"

Rachel considers the question and slowly spins her bottle around as she tries to figure out an answer. When none comes to her, she falls back on answering a question with a question. "What do you mean?"

"Like when you needed one." Bekah's not really making eye contact, sort of like she's embarrassed. "For your period and boys and stuff."

Rachel's spent the better part of nearly six years trying to block out her first period and how terrible and awkward it was. Thankfully, her parents had enough foresight to provide her with a book on the subject, and by the time it actually happened, she at least knew what was going on. It still didn't make the entire thing any less mortifying, though- for her _or _her dads. So she likes to just not think about it. Ever. She also doesn't feel exactly comfortable discussing it with Bekah, either, even though she already knows she's going to end up being the one who has to deal with it. That's a good thing, though. Somebody would end up dead or something equally dramatic if that conversation was left up to Bekah's brother.

Still, she chooses to skip over the details and just answer in general. "It was hard sometimes," she says honestly. "But I made it through okay."

It _was _hard. Growing up and being expected to grow into a woman when she had nothing to base it on... It was difficult. Her parents were great, still are, but there's no denying the fact that sometimes a girl just _needs _a woman. She could talk to her grandmothers, but that was always sort of weird, too. It was worse, not having a mom and not even having any aunts or anything. Her dad's paralegal was the one who showed her how to shave her legs for the first time. She probably would have been called in for a tampon demonstration, but Rachel quickly assured everyone involved that the book was more than enough education. It was just weird, and there were many, many times throughout her life when she really wished for a mom.

Now, there's a huge part of her that thinks her life would be easier if she'd never gotten that wish.

"I've never even kissed a boy." Bekah supplies this information seemingly out of nowhere. "I don't know when I'm supposed to."

Rachel shrugs one shoulder, trying to make this as least awkward as possible. "It'll just happen when you find someone you want to kiss. I didn't kiss anyone until I was fifteen."

"Finn?" Bekah looks up at her and raises her eyebrows questioningly. Rachel nods and tries not to feel weird about it. "I still can't believe you ever dated him," Bekah sounds halfway disgusted. "He's such an idiot."

Rachel laughs even though she shouldn't. She's always kind of found Bekah's opinion of Finn to be funny, even though she knows a lot of it is based out of misplaced affection. "He's not that bad."

"He's _dumb," _Bekah says seriously. "And he's not even cute."

"Yes, he is." Rachel laughs again, and Bekah wrinkles her nose.

"Don't let my brother hear that."

"I'm not stupid." They laugh together, and Rachel shakes her head. "Anyway, that was a long time ago."

"Not _that _long ago."

"Long enough."

They spend the next thirty minutes or so doing science homework. Bekah has less trouble when she's actually got someone helping her. Science has never exactly been Rachel's strong-point, but she knows enough to at least be able to explain photosynthesis. She's sort of with Bekah, though, because seriously... She's _never _come across a real-life situation where she actually needed to _know _these things. But still, seventh grade will be easier if Bekah at least knows all the things she was supposed to learn in sixth grade. It still sucks, though.

Finn and Destiny come in with Chinese because apparently there's take-out for dinner tonight, and no one told Rachel. It doesn't matter, though. She can basically eat white rice and that's pretty much it, so it's not like they really needed to ask her what she wants. Noah should be getting off work soon and coming home, too, so she lets Bekah put up her homework and help with getting some dishes out. She's not really paying attention until she sees Finn pull Bekah's ponytail and hears, "We were just talking about you," in response.

Rachel immediately freezes, and she wants to throw something at Bekah or at least make some kind of over-exaggerated gesture from across the room to tell her to _shut the hell up, _but there's no time. Finn says, "What about?" and Bekah's answering before anyone has a chance to stop her.

"About you and Rachel and how she could have done _so _much better."

There's stunned silence after that. Bekah, of course, has no idea that she's just laid the groundwork for WWIII, and Rachel really just wants to disappear or possibly die. Finn looks like he's totally fucked, which he is. Destiny just looks confused.

"You guys..." She looks back and forth between Finn and Rachel, and then she blinks a couple of times.

Bekah isn't stupid enough not to catch this, and her eyes go wide for a second before she almost kind of giggles. "Oh, my god, you didn't know."

"It was like three years ago," Rachel speaks up, hoping to cut off anything else that might be resting at the edge of Rebekah Puckerman's tongue.

"But you didn't think maybe you should _tell _me that?" Destiny's only speaking to Finn now, and she's looking at him like she doesn't know whether she has a right to be pissed. Rachel can sympathize. She knows firsthand what it feels like to be a victim of Finn's tendency to withhold the truth from his girlfriends.

"It wasn't a big deal," Finn says quickly. Rachel's pretty sure her mouth actually falls open. Finn seems to see her out of the corner of his eye because he kind of winces, but it's obvious that he has no idea how to get out of this without making at least one enemy. Obviously if he has a choice, he's going to pick the one who's giving him blow jobs regularly. Still, _it wasn't a big deal _isn't exactly something any girl wants to hear from the boy who got her virginity.

Destiny stares at him, and then she looks over at Rachel who doesn't even try to hide her distaste at Finn's statement. She should probably work on covering that up with a less obvious face, but too late now.

"I don't understand why you didn't just tell me."

"He's not very good at just telling his girlfriends things they should know." The words are out of Rachel's mouth before she can stop them, and even though she knows she should do her best to just stay out of it, there's a part of her that's really pissed.

Finn kind of glares at her and barely misses a second before he's saying, "And she's not very good at, you know, _not _fucking her boyfriend's best friend, so I guess nobody's perfect."

And so that's really the end.

They both stare at each other, and Rachel doesn't know whether to cry or scream. Then she sees Finn glance over at Bekah who's just standing there looking half in shock because _clearly _she didn't know everything that was going on around her when she was nine years old. Her amusement from minutes ago seems to have disappeared completely.

Finn seems to take her dumbfounded expression as encouragement to try and smooth things over as quickly as they got out of hand. He shakes his head. "I'm sorry," he says quickly. "Rachel... I'm sorry." He looks at her seriously, and she nods, showing both that she understands and that she's sorry, too. That was entirely pointless, and they both know it. Then he looks at Destiny who now seems more put out than ever. "Des... It was just... Can we just talk about it?"

Destiny frowns, but she nods anyway. They go in the other room, and Rachel's pretty sure they'll be just fine. This is nothing worth breaking up over if they really like each other, and they seem to. Hopefully Finn can keep his mouth from betraying him and just figure out the right things to say.

"So you cheated on him?" Bekah speaks up almost immediately after Finn and Destiny go into the living room. "With my brother?"

Rachel rolls her eyes, but she doesn't even know why. She doesn't want to have this conversation, and she's pretty sure no one should care since it happened a million years ago and clearly things are very, very different now.

"I made a mistake," she says simply, not sure why she's defending herself. "I was mad, and I just did something stupid. But obviously we, Finn and I, we weren't supposed to work out anyway."

"But you still cheated. And Noah helped you."

"It was a lot more complicated than that."

"Quinn cheated with him, too. That's pretty fucked up, Rachel."

Rachel feels her jaw drop for the second time in just a few minutes. She stares at Bekah who looks back unfazed and determinedly. "There was a lot more to it than just that," and she probably sounds hateful, but she's not exactly thrilled with being lectured by a twelve year old. "Obviously I know it wasn't the best decision, but it's really no one else's business." She means the last part as a warning.

Bekah looks disappointed, like maybe she's just had some perfect image erased or something. It's ridiculous. This whole _thing _is ridiculous. Rachel says nothing when Bekah grabs her science book off the table and leaves to take it upstairs. She doesn't come right back down, and Finn and Destiny are obviously taking their sweet time having their own conversation.

The dinner's going to get cold fast.

When Noah finally shows up, Rachel's alone in the kitchen, sitting at the table and doing absolutely nothing. He looks at her kind of strangely and asks what's wrong before he leans over and drops a kiss to her.

She tells him everything- from Bekah unintentionally spilling the news that she and Finn used to date to Destiny being understandably pissed to Rachel and Finn making deep-cutting jabs at each other to Bekah basically calling Rachel a horrible person for cheating in the first place. It all sounds even stupider when she repeats it. Noah just kind of looks confused.

"Tell Bekah to mind her own damn business. "And Finn can kiss my ass if he wants to start talking shit."

"He's not," she says quickly. "It was all just stupid, but I think Bekah's really upset or something."

"Who gives a shit?" He shrugs like it's no big deal. "It's not her fucking business. And whatever, that was like a million years ago."

Finn and Destiny choose that exact moment to finally come back to the kitchen for their dinner. Noah kind of glares at Finn who won't really look at anyone. Destiny seems slightly affected but mostly just determined to be fine. Noah kind of shoots Finn a glare and gets an eye-roll in return. There's some sort of unspoken conversation there where they both end up knowing everything's okay and that the whole thing is just stupid. They've been able to do that forever, and Rachel's always been a little jealous that she's never had a friend who could essentially read her mind.

It's awkward, mostly because Destiny still doesn't look like she knows what to believe. She scoops some Chinese onto a plate and tries to pretend that she's not as bothered as she is. She has no real reason to be bothered, but it's easy to understand why she is. She probably feels like an idiot, too, being the only one who didn't know. Rachel kind of feels sorry for her.

She goes to the bottom of the stairs to call Bekah for dinner, but she gets a, "Not hungry," yelled back in response. Rachel rolls her eyes, but she isn't going to _force _her into eating. Not until she actively starts starving herself or something anyway. Which could be any day really. Noah, though, doesn't seem to be in the mood for dramatics because he goes upstairs to talk to her and likely tell her off, which is probably _not_ the smartest plan of attack, but oh well...

She sits in the living room with Destiny and Finn while they talk to each other and mostly just ignore her. She's not really surprised, but she hates that it's weird. She has nothing against Destiny, she even kind of _likes _her. She doesn't want some stupid drama from high school to mess things up.

When Noah comes back downstairs, he's got Bekah with him. She still looks kind of pissed off, but she mumbles an apology. She's looking at Finn when she says it, like _sorry I spilled your secret and possibly cut down on your chances of getting laid. _But she comes over to sit with Rachel, and she steals a glazed carrot off her plate. That's enough of a sign that everything's okay and that Bekah's not really pissed at her anymore.

It's a pretty boring night made up of Chinese food and television, but it gets infinitely better when they _finally _see Brittany on _So You Think You Can Dance. _They've been watching every week, waiting for a clip or a shot of her in a commercial or something, but so far, they've yet to spot her at all. When she shows up in a whole featured segment during Vegas week, they all literally scream. Well, Destiny doesn't, but she smiles because she knows they've all been waiting to see her. She's only on for about three minutes, but she does a good job and makes it through to at least the next round. All of their phones explode within five minutes of each other with everyone calling to make sure they saw. Santana's literally _screaming _into the phone, and Rachel knows for a fact that she's supposed to be in some sort of evening workout. Apparently she's skipping it for TV, but that's not at all surprising.

Leave it to Brittany to make a shitty day better and still be thousands of miles away.

Later that night, everyone's already in bed, and Rachel's the last one to take a shower. She goes to lay down with wet hair even though she knows she's going to regret it in the morning. She almost thinks Noah's asleep, but he's not. He opens his eyes and rolls over when she slides under the covers. Sometimes all of this still feels unreal and a little too adult, and there are lots of times when she's not sure she's old enough to be crawling into bed with her boyfriend for actual _sleep. _But they've all grown up a lot in a short amount of time, so it also feels pretty normal.

"You'd look better naked." He glances down at the t-shirt she's wearing, and she has to roll her eyes because there are always moments like _that _that completely negate her earlier thoughts.

"What'd you say to Bekah?" she asks tucking a hand under the pillow and completely ignoring his statement.

"I told her not to be a little cunt."

"You did not call your sister that."

"I said I told her _not _to be." He rolls his own eyes. "Keep up, Rach."

Rachel ignores him again. "I just don't understand why she got so upset... It was like she was seriously pissed off over something that happened forever ago and doesn't even _matter _now."

He shrugs one shoulder. "She just thinks you're like perfect or something. I don't know. Maybe she didn't think you'd do something like that. She expects that shit out of me."

Rachel hates thinking about it, hates it because it was probably one of the worst things she ever did in her life. On the other hand, it turned into the best thing in her life. So it's confusing. She feels guilty, but she can't really regret it. And it happened so long ago that she doesn't even _think _about it now. They've all moved on from it, so having it brought back up and seeing it actually upset Bekah certainly isn't fun.

"I'm glad I did it," she admits quietly at exactly the same moment she feels slide over her hip and drag her closer.

"Me, too." He kind of smirks at her, and she shouldn't find him as attractive as she does- not when they're rehashing cheating and lies and betrayal times infinity.

"But this is how it was always supposed to be, right?"

He nods, his lips just barely brushing over her forehead. "Always."

She hides her smile, but she kind of likes that he does this now- that she can get him to admit his feelings about her so easily. It's terrible, of course, considering the circumstances that brought about this change, but she loves hearing him vocalize all the things she's feeling inside.

Almost like he can read her mind, he mumbles, "This is how it's always _gonna _be," right before he kisses her.

She's been kissing him long enough that she really should just be used to it. But she kind of never is. He always manages to surprise her, mostly because she always actually _feels _something when she kisses him- something that she's sure has to really mean something. And she doesn't really think he'd be able to make her feel all that if he wasn't feeling at least some of it himself.

She doesn't know when they got this close...

She loves it, but part of her is scared by it, too. She's only nineteen, and she already knows there's no turning back from this. In a lot of ways, she doesn't feel ready for it, but mostly she just doesn't know how to _not _feel all of this. It goes much, much deeper than a physical connection, despite the fact that they can and _do _excel in that area. It's so much more than that, though. She knows it, and she knows he has to know it, too. They're both just so _young, _though.

She's spent her whole life waiting to grow up, but there's a part of her that just wants to hang onto being a kid just a little while longer.

She's not sure she really has that option any longer.

… … …

A/N: Ahhh, things are kind of shaky right now. Maybe it can all work out.


	18. June, Part 2

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter 16**

**JUNE, PART 2**

… … …

Things go from timid to just plain bad when Bekah decides she wants to turn up the preteen angst to the maximum level.

She's been back home for a little over two weeks, and those two weeks have held plenty of ups and downs. For the most part, she's generally okay. But sometimes she's a totally different person. It's almost like someone just flips a switch inside of her, and she goes from sweet little girl to evil spawn of Satan. And really, Rachel's been holding off on admitting all of that for awhile. She's been the one taking up for Bekah whenever Noah and Finn start complaining about her mood swings, but _Jesus Christ. _It's exhausting.

It gets really bad one day when she comes home from her dad's. He picks her up for a few hours on the weekends, and for the most part, everyone's doing a good job of being mature about the situation. And by everyone, of course, Rachel means Noah. She's actually really proud of him. She doesn't know exactly what was said between his father and him, but whatever happened was apparently enough to make him realize that maybe some sort of peaceful medium could be met. He and his father aren't best friends by any stretch of the imagination, but they can have calm, mature (albeit short) conversations where Bekah's concerned. So at least _that's _something. His father's also giving them money- well, giving _Bekah _money (Noah insists he doesn't need anything from his dad whatsoever). But he sends a check to help with expenses and has taken over paying for her tutoring. He's even offered to pay for a few repairs that need to be done on the house before it can go up for sale.

But Bekah comes home one day in a bad mood with a scowl on her face. That's kind of a common look for her, so nobody really thinks twice about it. Instead of going straight up to her room and shutting the door, though, she goes into the living room and grabs the extra Xbox controller to join Finn in whatever stupid blood-thirsty game he's currently playing. Rachel doesn't think much of it. She's looking over some sheet music that her vocal coach gave her, and she's singing the songs in her head, mentally hitting the notes and working out the arrangement. It's all kind of peaceful and normal.

That lasts for about five minutes.

Bekah and Finn get into an argument over something game-related, and he apparently makes a mistake in putting his hand over her mouth. She retaliates by throwing a punch- a _real _punch- and catching him hard right in the shoulder. He kind of looks at her in shock because even though she clearly can't hurt him, she can probably leave a sting.

"What the fuck, Bek?"

She looks seriously angry for a few seconds, and then that switch gets flipped and she's got on some cutesy smile. She reaches over and wraps both arms around his neck, squeezing and dropping a very sloppy kiss to his cheek. It's suspicious to say the least. She usually only pulls that kind of stuff out when she's purposely trying to annoy someone- most likely Noah or Finn. Now it just seems like a coverup to the fact that she legitimately got angry after a split second and actually _punched _someone. She's already been in two fights, and Noah's already warned her against getting into anymore, so it's almost as if she's purposely trying to hide the fact that violence has become her immediate go-to defense at the very slightest of provocation.

Things go okay for a little while after that. Bekah and Finn finish their game, and when he apparently beats her, she doesn't even whine or pout. She just tosses the controller at him and runs upstairs to her room, yelling over her shoulder that she's going to call one of her friends. Rachel just makes sure Finn doesn't have plans to go anywhere and then decides to go see her parents because she knows they're both off today.

And it should be fine.

She goes home just in time for dinner, and she's more than happy to help herself to some of the pasta her dads have just ordered in. She knows they weren't really expecting her, but there's enough there for three, and anyway, she hasn't exactly spent a ton of time with them since she's been home.

"Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence." Her dad's joking, and all three of them kind of laugh when she comes in and immediately kicks her shoes off and heads for the kitchen. She's ready to eat.

They have a pretty normal dinner, and she fills them in on everything that's going on over at the Puckermans'. They ask her how Bekah's doing, and she kind of lies and says she seems to be pretty okay. Well, it's not _really _a lie because sometimes Bekah _is _okay. But sometimes she's not... Rachel's really not sure she should advertise this fact.

"So let me see your ring." Her dad changes the subject out of nowhere, and both Rachel and her other father stare at him in confusion. "Well, I figured you must have a good excuse for completely ignoring your family, and the only thing I could come up with is that you must've run off and eloped behind our backs."

She laughs a little uneasily. She may not have a mother, but that doesn't mean she doesn't get her fair share of Jewish guilt. Of course, her dad's (mostly) joking, but it still unnerves her a little bit. But she just shakes her head.

"Still a Berry." She holds up her left hand and flashes her naked ring finger.

"Good girl." Her dad smiles at her, but she can tell that even though he's mostly joking, he's also a little bit serious.

When she gets back to Noah's, it's after nine o'clock, and there's apparently a world war brewing in the living room.

Noah and Bekah are fighting. They're both yelling at each other in a way that she rarely sees out of them. She has _no _idea what's going on, and Finn's nowhere in sight. They barely acknowledge her when she lets herself in the front door, and all she can make out is that apparently Noah's a "fucking controlling psycho on a power trip!" and Bekah's an "ungrateful little brat!"

"What the hell is going on?" she demands loudly, thinking that if she shocks them enough, they'll forget about screaming for a second and at least fill her in.

It doesn't work.

Noah and Bekah both glance at her for maybe a total of three seconds and then fall right back into yelling at each other. At least they're attempting to answer Rachel's question- even if the screaming is still directed right towards each other.

"He thinks he can boss me around and I'll just do whatever the hell he says!"

"I _can _boss you around!" he shoots back without skipping a beat. "I'm in fucking charge!"

Bekah looks like she might scream. Her face is red and strained, and she looks caught somewhere between tears and just complete frustration. She's also furious, and Rachel still doesn't even know what the problem is.

"What happened?" she asks, trying to make herself heard over the heavy tension and anger that seems to be drowning the room at the moment.

"I just hate all of this!" Bekah glares one more time and then turns around and stomps up the stairs, and Rachel's left wondering what exactly it is that she hates so much. She doesn't know what _this _actually means.

"Oh, my fucking _god." _Noah looks like he's literally clenching his fists before he falls down heavily onto the couch and shakes his head. "I can't handle this shit."

"What happened?" she asks again as she moves over to sit down beside him.

"I don't know! She doesn't want to listen to anything I say!"

Rachel's sure this is mostly down to the tone he's undoubtedly using when he _tells _her what to do. She doesn't say anything, though, just sighs a little bit because she knew this would be difficult.

"I swear... She didn't used to act like this."

"She didn't used to be twelve, either," Rachel points out calmly. "And her mom didn't used to be dead."

"She's crazy."

"Her life's completely screwed up, Noah..."

He kind of glares at her for about half a second, and then his eyes flutter backwards. "Whatever, my life's completely screwed up, too, but I'm not acting crazy."

He _has _acted crazy. Plenty of times. She doesn't mention this, either.

"There's a difference, Noah." She tries to use the gentlest voice possible because she knows he's about two seconds away from taking out his Bekah frustration on her. "You guys are going through the same thing, but at least you at least have _some _kind of control over your own life. Bekah doesn't have that. She's getting yanked around and going place to place to place, and that's got to be difficult."

"I'm not forcing her to be here," he snaps. "If she wants to leave, she can leave."

He says it nonchalantly with fake carelessness. She knows he would be in pieces if Bekah actually said she wanted to leave.

"She _wants _to be here," Rachel says seriously. "But she's emotional and frustrated, and you just have to accept that and let her be that way for right now."

"She's not going to be a little bitch to me. I'm not putting up with that."

Rachel doesn't know what to say to that, so she just stays quiet. They sit there in silence for a little while until she finally just sighs quietly and offers to go check on his sister. He doesn't say yes or no, so she gets up and goes without his acknowledgment. She knows he's frustrated, and she understands why. But it's hard to make him see Bekah's point of view when she knows he's really just worried about her.

Bekah's door's shut, and she doesn't answer when Rachel knocks. She tries again and still doesn't get an answer. "Bekah?"

Apparently knowing that it's Rachel and not her brother is enough to make Bekah answer the door because she's looking at Rachel lazily a second later.

"Can we talk?" Rachel doesn't wait for an answer before she moves into Bekah's room and goes over to sit on the unmade bed. Her room's a mess, which isn't surprising because apparently clutter and mess run in the Puckerman DNA. Noah's room would probably have grown its own legs by now if Rachel didn't clean it on a regular basis. Judging by the state of Bekah's room, she's probably going to have to start cleaning this one as well.

"I don't care if he's pissed at me." Bekah doesn't bother keeping her voice down as she shuts the bedroom door loudly and goes over to her desk.

"He's not pissed at you."

Bekah just looks at her, and Rachel knows there's really no point in lying.

"He's just overwhelmed," she amends herself. "He's trying to do what's right, but he's really new at this."

"He wants to control my life."

Oh, the drama... Rachel can't imagine what's yet to come. "He's not trying to control you," she says, and it's the truth. "But he wants to do everything right, and he has no idea how to do everything."

"I don't want him bossing me around." Bekah still looks mad, but she just rolls her eyes a little.

"Bekah, he _is _in charge..."

"He thinks he's my father."

"He's just trying."

Bekah rolls her eyes again, but she mostly just looks sad. It's scary trying to imagine what's going on in her head.

"I hate being in the middle of all this," she mumbles.

"What do _you _want?" Rachel asks, wondering for the first time if anyone's even bothered to pose the question before. Bekah just stares at her, and then she looks over her shoulder like she's watching something through the window. Finally, she answers.

"My mom."

Rachel feels her heart break a little, which isn't all that unfamiliar. She's felt that way several times over the past few months, but it doesn't make it any easier. She can tell that Bekah's trying really, really hard not to cry and possibly not to show any emotion at all. It's not working out entirely, but at least she's managing to keep the tears away.

"I don't know why all this had to happen." She's still mumbling, and she still won't look Rachel in the eye. It's really sad.

"Me, either..."

Bekah rolls her lower lip between her teeth. "I wish things could just go back to the way they were. Before all this shit."

"Just give Noah a chance," Rachel asks softly. "You guys really need each other."

Bekah doesn't say anything, but then she rolls her eyes a little. It's half-hearted at best, and Rachel can tell that she doesn't mean it. "Just tell him to stop bossing me so much."

Rachel nods. "Okay. But maybe try _not _to do the opposite of everything he asks just because you don't like him being in charge. If you guys can work together, everything will be a lot easier."

Rachel has no way of knowing whether that's true, but she hopes that it is.

Things go a little more smoothly after that. There are still plenty of issues, but Bekah backs off of the drama a little bit, and Noah stops acting like a psycho on a power trip. They generally get along for the most part, which is nice because Rachel doesn't really know how she's supposed to handle all of this and keep everyone from killing each other if they're both dead set on doing the opposite. So at least they're making an effort- it's really the most she can hope for.

They go to a party at Mike's the last weekend of the month. Rachel doesn't expect it to be very big or anything because the get-togethers over there are generally on a small scale. It's been the designated hangout spot for years, but there are never really huge parties or anything. Usually it's just a few people, and they just hang out and drink in the basement. There are usually movies or video games involved, and it's usually fun. Rachel never really started to enjoy big parties until college, and in Lima, she thinks she still prefers the small hang outs instead.

There are maybe fifteen people there. Rachel knows most of them, but the only ones she has any type of relationship with are Mike, Noah, Finn, and Artie. Finn brings Destiny along, so at least there's one other girl there that she knows. It's weird, though, being there without Tina, but she and Mike broke up two weeks ago, leaving Rachel and Noah officially as the last couple remaining of their friends. Rachel kind of feels like she should be offended on Tina's behalf when she walks down the basement stairs and sees Mike making out with some girl she doesn't recognize. She hasn't got the full story on the breakup, but she heard that Tina's the one who initiated it. She's not sure about all the details, but she thinks she should probably find them out before telling Mike he's an asshole for moving on so quickly or anything like that.

There's poker, and Rachel sits out because she sucks at it. She considers herself to be a pretty good actress, but apparently her poker face leaves something to be desired because she always ends up losing her money. The fact that she's not one-hundred percent sure on the rules doesn't really ever help matters. Noah's good at it, though. He can usually win or at least not lose _everything, _so she gives him twenty bucks and tells him to make some money.

He tells her to go to the other side of the room because he doesn't trust her not to fuck up his game.

She loves how sweet he is...

It's kind of stupid how attracted she is to him. It's definitely not like there's anything new here. They've been together longer than anyone else she knows, and in a lot of ways, everything's so routine and normal that she sometimes feels like an old married couple. So it's a little strange how after all that time and how serious everything is... how she can still sometimes feel like she did when she was sixteen and really trying _not _to find him as attractive as she really did. But there's something inherently sexy about him sitting there at that table with a stack of chips in front of him and a handful of cards. He's concentrating, which is hotter than it should be, and he looks really serious. A lot of it probably has to do with the beer she's been drinking, but she wonders if he knows what she's thinking. He catches her eye for a second and kind of smirks at her, and she hates him for making her want him so badly from all the way across the room.

She decides then- this time she really _is _going to give up alcohol.

She gets another beer out of the fridge, and she hears her name being called from across the room. It's Artie, and he's holding up his empty bottle and obviously asking her to bring him another one. She does because she's nice like that. She also grabs a few extra to take over and pass out to the poker players. Artie thanks her, Finn grabs one and doesn't even glance up, Noah asks her if she can open it.

He tugs her down into her lap and then uses the hand not currently holding his cards to cover her eyes. "Don't look at my hand," he tells her, and she giggles when everyone else laughs. They all know she's terrible. She would say something about proving them wrong, but it's a pretty lost cause. She makes a point of _not _looking at his cards when he uncovers her eyes and takes the beer she's now offering.

Destiny's winning. As far as Rachel can tell anyway. She's not sure any of the guys (including Finn) are too impressed with some new chick showing up and cleaning them out. She doesn't seem to care, though, and she barely glances up as half the table folds. Rachel doesn't care one way or the other about poker. Noah's still in, but she really wants to distract him, so she slips off a shoe and runs her bare foot over his ankle. She doesn't know why. He's going to be pissed at her if he loses, but she doesn't really care. She makes a point not to meet his eye when he looks at her. Instead, she just steadily sips her beer and watches Destiny continue to win.

He grabs her wrist five minutes later when the light tapping of her fingers against his thigh turns into a more obvious grope. He's staring at her, but Rachel just keeps the best innocent look she can manage. She hands over the rest of her drink when his own is empty, and he finishes it off in one drink. Then he pulls her a little higher up his lap and whispers to her. "What's your deal?"

She finally looks at him, just kind of raises her eyebrows and quietly says, "I'm bored."

He stares at her and then smirks a little. Her saying _I'm bored _is as good as asking him to fuck her right there at a house party. He knows it, too, and she sort of likes that he does. No one is paying them any attention, which is a good thing because Rachel's not that brave. Noah might not care, but it doesn't matter how drunk she is (and she's _not _very drunk at all), she's not going to turn into some exhibitionist and put herself out for show in front of everyone they know. Or at least in front of like five people they know.

"Fold," he says carelessly when it's his turn again. He drops his cards onto the table and pushes her off his lap. "We gotta go. Rachel's got ballet."

She wants to laugh because A) she hasn't been to a ballet class since high school and B) it's almost midnight, so _clearly _he's a liar. And a bad one. But she's kind of embarrassed, kind of amused, kind of annoyed, and kind of too eager to get out of there to give much of a shit.

Bekah's staying with a friend, and without Finn around, the house seems really empty. That's exactly what she was going for with all of this, so she doesn't even complain when he starts taking her clothes off in the kitchen.

She'll just have to remember to pick them up later.

The next morning she wakes up feeling a just a little hungover and also a little sore. It's the good kind of sore, though, but when she opens her eyes to share this bit of information, she realizes she's alone and that the other side of the bed is empty. She doesn't know where her phone is, but she's pretty sure it can't be too late in the morning- not late enough for Noah to already be at work or anything. She's just about to get up and go look for him when he shows back up.

She doesn't know where he's been, and she doesn't ask. He falls back down into bed with her and just pulls her back up against his chest without saying anything. She can feel his chin on her head, and she thinks she might fall right back to sleep. This position is very easy and comforting. He likes to cuddle, which she loves. He tells her he only likes it because she's just the right size for it, but she doesn't care what the reasoning is. She just likes it.

Before she can actually fall back to sleep, though, she hears him talking. He's sort of mumbling, but she makes it out. "It's been six months..."

It takes her a second to put it together. Then she realizes, though... Six months to the day since the accident. She didn't even notice. She feels awful. She tries to lift her head up and turn around to look at him, but he keeps his arms and head in firm position to prevent her from doing anything. She knows it's just because he doesn't want to look at her face. Or doesn't want _her _to look at _him._

"I gotta sell this fucking house..." He's still mumbling. She can tell he doesn't want to think about any of this, and she doesn't blame him.

"We'll get it done," she promises, and she links their fingers together where his hand is pressed against her stomach.

He doesn't say anything for a little while, and it's just quiet. Then she feels him lift his chin from her head and lean up a little bit. He kisses her cheek. "I like when you say we."

She does it unconsciously. Maybe she likes it, too.

She knows she does.

… … …

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review!


	19. July

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter 17**

**JULY**

… … …

The house officially goes up for sale the third week of July.

The realtor lists it as a "single family three bedroom, two and a half bath split-level home," and the asking price seems way over the top. Rachel doesn't question it, though, because she's not a realtor, and she knows they always ask above what they expect anyway. There are two open houses planned and various showings, which means that the house has to be clean and free of any and all clutter. Since Bekah apparently knows how to clean and Noah just _doesn't, _Rachel keeps up the habit of making sure everything's in order. It's kind of hard to do when everyone, Bekah especially, seems determined to go behind her and mess everything up the second it's straightened.

Rachel kind of snaps on her one afternoon when she comes in from her vocal lessons and finds three textbooks and what seems to be a million loose sheets of paper lying all over the living room floor. Bekah's not even in the room- she's in the kitchen on the phone, and Rachel possibly crosses some kind of line when she goes in there and loudly demand that she hang up the phone and go clean up the mess. Bekah gives her a dismissive kind of look and then goes right back to her conversation, and that just _really _pisses her off.

"Hang up the phone _now," _she says seriously. "I'm not playing."

Bekah glares at her but tells whoever she's talking to that she has to go and hangs up. Then she rolls her eyes and practically throws her phone across the table. "_What?" _she demands when Rachel gives her a look.

"Go clean up your mess. And if you break your phone throwing it, you do realize you're not getting another one, right?"

"You do realize you can't tell me what to do, right?"

Rachel wants to roll her own eyes, but she refrains. Those are the most frequent words out of Bekah's mouth these days, and she directs them at pretty much everyone around her. Instead of calling her out, though, Rachel ignores it. "Go clean up your mess," she repeats.

"Fine." Bekah stands up and leans across the table to get her phone. "Since you won't let me do my homework, I guess you won't care when I fail."

Now _that's _just ridiculous, and Rachel really does call her on that. "You have a whole room to do your homework in. So go upstairs and do it now."

Bekah huffs her way out of the kitchen and into the living room. She starts slamming her tutoring work into her bag and stomps toward the stairs. Rachel's really sick of it and tells her to leave her phone downstairs until she has all of her work finished and ready to be checked. She actually has to move out of the way when Bekah throws her phone for the second time that day.

Finn's in the backyard trying to cut the bushes down some, but he comes back inside just a few minutes after Bekah slams her bedroom door so loudly that the entire house shakes. Rachel's so mad that she really can't even think straight. She's sick of being someone's mom, and as much as she loves Bekah, it's really hard not to hate her these days. She's mad at the world and seems to want to take her anger out on pretty much everyone around her. It's exhausting.

"What's wrong?" Finn's face is red, and she can't tell if he's just hot or sunburned. He's wiping sweat away with the bottom of his t-shirt, though, and she almost doesn't find it disgusting when he goes to the fridge and grabs a can of Mountain Dew.

"Bekah's a little bitch," she says flatly, falling down into a chair at the table.

Finn laughs because he's been around for all of it and knows exactly what she's talking about. There's no further explanation needed because it's just a fact.

"Are you going to be here?" Finn starts digging through the cabinets for something to eat. "I'm supposed to work at three."

"Yeah, I've got to do some stuff around here anyway."

"Well, try not to like kill Bekah or anything."

Rachel finally really does roll her eyes. She's not in the mood to deal with all this preteen angst. She's not in the mood to deal with _anything _really.

"When does Puck get off?"

"I think four. Maybe five."

Finn nods and finishes his pop. "I'm gonna take off then. I gotta go home and change. I think I may crash there tonight because I have to be back at work early tomorrow."

Rachel tells him bye and then grabs her phone and sends a message to Noah asking what time he'll be home and what he wants to do for dinner. He probably won't get it until he goes on break, but maybe he'll check his phone before then.

She heads upstairs and stops outside Bekah's door to see if she can hear anything. If she hears the TV or music, she's going to be seriously angry. She doesn't hear anything, though, so maybe Bekah's actually doing what she's supposed to be doing. Or maybe she's just asleep. Either is a very real possibility. Rachel doesn't bother, though. It's probably not even worth it.

She's been working on Noah's mom's room for a couple of weeks now. With the house up for sale, the realtor stated as much "unnecessary clutter" as possible needed to be put away. His mom's room is not necessarily clutter, but it's not used on a day to day basis, either. In fact, it's not used at all. No one ever goes in. She's pretty sure Noah hasn't been in here at _all _since his mom died. The amount of dust that was collecting when Rachel first started working on it was unreal. It's cleaner now, but there's still a ton to go through.

She's finished the closet, but all the drawers are still full, so Rachel starts there. She's been bagging most everything up for Goodwill because she doesn't know if anyone wants to keep anything or not. Neither Noah nor Bekah have offered to help, and they've actually both gone out of their way to _not _help with this task. When she asked them about the clothes, they both agreed with the Goodwill solution, but it still feels so strange bagging up an entire _wardrobe _for a charity donation. It just kind of feels _wrong._

There are still so many specific reminders and details in this room. Every time Rachel comes in here, she feels a little worse. There are certain things she can't bare to touch yet. There's a copy of _Water for Elephants _on the nightstand, marked to a certain page with a grocery store receipt. She doesn't want to touch it because she's afraid she'll lose the place, like someone's coming back to read it and pick up where they left off or something. There's a pair of shoes halfway under the bed, obviously out of place and kicked off when someone was in too much of a hurry to put them away in the closet. It's just weird, just knowing that all of this is exactly the way she left it. Knowing that every single item that's moved is taking her a little further away. And it's not, of course, but it certainly feels like it.

The drawers are full of pajamas and underclothes and other things that no one else should ever really be going through. It's a little uncomfortable, but somebody has to do it, and Rachel's already committed herself to this task. She tries to get through it as quickly as possible, mostly because all of this is really hard. She should have done it months ago, but it's been easier to just ignore it and pretend that the closed door at the end of the hall doesn't lead to anything instead of acknowledging that someone's bedroom is on the other side.

There's not a _ton _of stuff in the jewelry box on top of the dresser. Rachel's peeked in it but hasn't gone through it yet. She doesn't know what to do with any of it because she obviously can't just bag it up and send it off to Goodwill. She's almost asked Noah a few different times, but she always stops herself before she actually gets the words out. The wedding rings are in here, several pairs of earrings, a watch, a couple of bracelets... Rachel pulls out a string of black pearls and rubs her thumb over one of the beads. She doesn't know if they're real or not, but they're pretty. This is the necklace his mom wore to graduation last year. Rachel remembers complimenting her on it, and that just makes something inside of her pang a little.

Graduation seems like forever ago, and it's barely been a year. She and Noah were good then, having officially been back on for maybe a month. She was happy, mostly because she was done with school and _finally _getting out of Lima. Noah was making plans to party non-stop, she was making plans to take New York by storm. His mom was happy and well, Bekah was sweet and fun and cute... A year later, all of that's pretty much gone out the window. His mom's gone, Bekah's gone insane. Noah's not in school, much less partying non-stop, and she's no longer looking forward to New York at all. It's kind of crazy.

"Rach?"

She's interrupted because Bekah's at the door. She's not coming into the room, just staying by the door and looking more than a little uncomfortable. She looks smaller than usual, maybe because she doesn't have her normal conflict face on.

"What's up?" Rachel moves to put the pearls back into the jewelry box, but Bekah stops her.

"Can I have that?"

Rachel doesn't really know the answer to that question, but she doesn't know of any reason why she should say no, either. So she just nods and holds the necklace out in offering. She's doing it to see if Bekah will come get it. It takes a few seconds, but she finally takes a couple of steps into the room. It might be the first time she's been in here since everything happened. It's really sad.

"Do you want to look through some more things?" Rachel's trying to be gentle, asking nicely. But Bekah just shakes her head and looks down at the pearls in her hand.

"Did you clean out all the drawers?" She's being quiet now, which is slightly uncharacteristic. Especially lately.

"Most of them." Rachel closes the jewelry box and pushes it to the back of the dresser.

"It still smells like her." Bekah's barely mumbling now, but Rachel can make it out. "In here."

Rachel doesn't know what to say to that. She's been in here enough lately that she doesn't think she'd really notice something like that. Instead of commenting, she just kind of smiles a little bit and then sits down on the floor to go through one of the bottom drawers she hasn't yet hit. Bekah just stands around kind of awkwardly and then sits down beside her.

There's not really a lot of clothes or anything in this drawer, it seems to be more of the 'catch-all' type. Rachel really wishes Bekah would help her sort through it, but she's not going to push her or anything. She knows it's probably really hard to deal with something like this, and she's not going to make her do anything she doesn't want to.

"If we have to move, what's gonna happen to you and Finn?" Bekah's playing with a loose string on the carpet, still kind of mumbling and still not actually making eye-contact.

"What do you mean?"

"Like if we have to go live in an apartment or something, what if there's no extra room?"

Rachel smiles a little and shrugs. "Finn will just get his own place, I guess. Or just stay with his parents. And I'm going back to school in like a month."

There are a couple seconds of silence. "It sucks you're so far away."

It _does. _Rachel knows that better than anyone. Everything about it sucks, and she's dreading it. She'd rather stay in Lima than go to New York, and that's just crazy. She doesn't tell Bekah this, though. Instead, she just says, "It's not _that _far."

"But Noah, you know, _needs _you. To like make him not psycho."

Rachel laughs because it's funny, and she just shakes her head. "He'll be okay."

Bekah just shrugs and keeps playing with the carpet. It's kind of weird, but Rachel doesn't mention it. She just keeps going through the drawer, pulling out various things and sorting them into piles. There are some things that just need to be thrown away, but there are other things that she's completely clueless about. And some things down there definitely don't need to be thrown away.

"Here's your birth certificate." She holds it so Bekah can see, and then she pulls another similar piece of paper from the same folder. "You were almost three pounds bigger than Noah?" Bekah shrugs again, and Rachel laughs as she compares the two birth certificates. Bekah was heavier and longer.

"Is that a lot?"

"For a baby." Rachel thinks it's kind of funny that he was so little, and it makes her wonder if he was born early or if he was just really small.

"You should have a baby." Bekah reaches over and takes her own birth certificate, and Rachel just gives her a look.

"Um, no."

"You will someday."

"Maybe." She shakes her head. "Not any time soon."

This elicits another shrug, and Rachel's starting to wonder if Bekah's capable of doing anything else. It's one of Noah's most used responses as well, though, so maybe it's genetic.

"Can I go to the mall?" It's crazy. They're sitting here looking at extremely important documents that relate to Bekah's entire existence, and she jumps straight into the mall.

"With who?"

"Hailey. Her mom said she'll take us. I think there'll be other people there."

Rachel's not stupid enough to believe the 'think' part of that statement. Clearly, Bekah knows perfectly well that there will be other people in attendance, and she's probably leaving off a good portion of those names with specific purpose. It's not even like Rachel would know who she was talking about, but that sort of answer tells her she should probably be concerned.

"Did you finish your homework?"

Bekah kind of frowns. "I finished _most _of it."

"How much is most?"

"I still have to do the science crap."

Rachel straightens up a stack of papers that look important. "Finish your work, and then you can go."

Bekah rolls her eyes and tilts her head back. She looks like she wants to argue, but after a second she just nods. "Okay."

"Take care of those." Rachel nods toward the strand of pearls that Bekah's still holding, and she gets a very, very small smile in return.

It's much later by the time Noah gets home.

He texts her at five and tells her he's not getting off until seven, which is significantly later than she expected. By that time, Bekah's already left with Hailey and called to ask if she can spend the night. Rachel makes the call and says okay even though she should probably check with Noah first. She doubts he'll be too upset, though, considering the fact that with Bekah gone and Finn most likely out for the night, they'll finally get to be alone for a little while.

She's right in this assumption. When he gets home and she feels him in, he basically jumps on her and starts kissing her right there by the kitchen table. And it's not like she hates it or anything close, but she ducks her head away a few seconds later and just smiles.

"Hi. Can we just hang out for a little while?"

He shrugs (totally genetic) and bumps his forehead against hers right before he kisses her again really quickly. He's very cute, and she's about ninety-nine percent sure that he knows this and is using it against her. He just returns her little smile, grabs her hand, and then opens the drawer with all the take-out menus.

They end up eating Chinese in the living room and watching the first two Saw movies. They've both seen them a million times, so it's not even gross anymore. When the take-out cartons are on the floor, she ends up with her back against the armrest and her legs across his lap. They're sipping some beer that his friend at work bought him, but they're not trying to get drunk. Buzzed is better, and she really can't help but think this is all just really nice. She lays her head against the back of the couch right beside his, and he plays with her hair while she talks on the phone to Santana and hears all about the new guy she's having sex with. It's getting late, but she doesn't think anyone really notices. Funny how summer will do that to you.

She hangs up with Santana just around the time he starts trying the prelims for a hickey right under her chin. She giggles and tries to shove him off, but that just leads to making out. So she sits there making out with him for a couple of minutes before she leans back and points out the obvious. "The movie's not over."

"They all die." Noah doesn't miss a beat before leaning back into kiss her again, and she kind of giggles into his mouth because he's so not interested in anything on television or elsewhere right now. She already knows it's going to be an awesome night, and that's confirmed when he starts tracing a random pattern over the top of her knee and then drags his finger down top of her thigh.

"Hey," she says, smiling despite herself. "What about just hanging out?"

"We can hang out while I fuck you on this couch for the first time in forever." He's definitely not joking, and she won't act like that doesn't appeal to her. They really _haven't _been on this couch in a long time, mostly because somebody else has been living on it. Thinking that someone else has possibly been having sex on it as well kind of freaks her out a little bit. Still, she's definitely seeing the appeal.

"Noah..." She giggles again, mostly because it tickles when he dips his head and actually _licks _her kneecap. He just kind of hums out a reply. "I want to _talk," _she says gently, but she lets her fingers slide down the back of his neck anyway.

"So talk." He doesn't look up, and this time he actually leans over and kisses her knee, and one hand stays planted over her foot while the other slides back down her thigh until it's completely under her dress and very likely inappropriate. Not that she minds a lot.

She kind of forgets where she was going with everything because he's hooking his fingers into the elastic of her panties and tugging them down her legs in absolutely no time. Because she has no decency apparently, she lifts her hips and actually _helps _him in ridding her of her underwear. He's still kissing her knee, but he's got his eyes locked on her and an eyebrow raised like he's waiting for her to go on. She's vaguely aware that he's got her underwear in the hand he's still using to cover her foot.

She doesn't say anything because while he may be silently giving her the go ahead to just talk, his lips are moving from her knee down the side of her thigh, and her brain kind of shuts off a little bit. He can seduce her. It's not a secret. It's not even remotely difficult. Sometimes she tries to resist, but she has to be _seriously _distracted (or pissed) to even halfway accomplish it. She still tries, though, but a quiet little sigh gets in the way, and she lets her head fall sideways against the back of the couch again and blinks at him. He smiles a little bit and kisses her lips for a second before moving back to her thigh. She knows her dress has risen up to an entirely inappropriate position, but she doesn't care.

"You're pretty."

It's things like that... He flashes another quick grin at her and then lets his hand get ahead of his lips and settle right between her legs. She shouldn't just immediately move to give him a better angle, but she does. He turns his head and kisses her again, and everything feels _really _good even though someone's being tortured on the flat-screen and screaming hysterically.

"Move to New York."

She doesn't mean for it to just slip out like that. She doesn't say it too loudly or anything, but she knows he hears her because his hand stops moving, and he just stares at her. Their faces are only a few inches apart, and she can feel his breath against her chin.

"What?" he finally asks, and he's really quiet as well.

"Move to New York," she repeats, and she bites down on her lip for a second. "When the house sells... Just come to New York."

She's thought about it off and on, mostly just random thoughts here and there. She's never brought it up or thought about it _seriously _because it doesn't really seem plausible. But she's been thinking about it a lot just over the last few hours, ever since Bekah brought up the fact that she was going to be too far away and that they needed her and... She can't just _leave _them. They do need her.

And she needs them.

"Rachel..." He breaks off and then looks at her, his eyes sort of glance all around her face. "I can't."

That's not what she wants to hear. Not at all. "Why not?"

"Bekah."

And it's not like she didn't already know that would be the response, but it doesn't mean she likes hearing that, either. "Bekah can come..." She's just staring at him, and he's not backing down or looking away or anything like that. "I don't want to be there without you."

"Let's not talk about it right now." She sees his throat move as he swallows, and there's something oddly fascinating about it. "I don't want to think about it."

"But I want you there." She's a little more affirmative (or maybe just a little more desperate). She doesn't care if he doesn't want to talk about it- they need to talk about it.

"Rach..."

"What?" Her eyes are wide, and she knows he's worried she's about to start getting shrill. She's not. But she _is_ serious, though. "Noah, it's not like it's crazy."

"It's not," he agrees quickly, and she's kind of surprised. "But we can't do that right now. So let's just forget it, okay?"

She knows he's not dissing her or dumping her, but it stings. It feels more like a slap in the face than she cares to admit it. Maybe springing it on him when he was two minutes from going down on her wasn't the best timing, but she's spontaneous. She needs to say what's on her mind. Him immediately shooting her down sort of feels like he's denying _her, _not just her idea.

Maybe he can read the look on her face because he brings the hand that's _not _currently under her dress up to cup her face. "Hey." He kind of pulls her closer even though they're not very far apart at all. "As soon as we can, okay?"

It's sort of a promise. She wishes it were more. Still, she nods and lets him kiss her. He mumbles something about no more talking, and she tries to forget it and just focus on him. It's hard, though, knowing that she'll be missing him in less time than she'd like.

She lied to Bekah.

New York _is _that far away.

… … …

A/N: Sorry there's been a delay! I'm trying to get all my writing back on track! Thanks for reading, and reviews are always loved.


	20. August

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter 18**

**AUGUST**

…

They discuss the New York thing a few more times, but nothing comes of it.

By _discuss, _Rachel really means she talks and he tells her he doesn't want to think about it right now. She's beginning to wonder when he'll ever want to think about it and knows the answer is probably _never. _It annoys her because they're usually pretty honest with each other, so not being able to discuss something like that with him makes her feel like he's purposely keeping her closed off.

Santana comes home for two weeks, and she makes no secret of telling Rachel that Noah will just have to "fuck off." And it's not bad. Noah really doesn't even _care. _He hangs out with them sometimes, but when Rachel wants to go and do her own thing, he has no issue with that. They're good at that not needing to be under each other's noses twenty-four/seven thing, and usually it's not a big deal when they want to make plans that don't include the other.

She and Santana spend most days out by the pool, and the Lopezes have a new pool cleaner (Santana insists on calling him the 'pool boy') who is very attractive and very much on Santana's brief summer visit radar. That, of course, brings up the fact that Noah was "cleaning" their pool the summer they first started having sex. Rachel doesn't want or need any kind of details on the subject, but she gets them anyway. And when she protests, Santana rolls her eyes and tells her it's not like it's something she didn't know before. She also points out that he was the worst pool cleaner they've ever had and that he owes her parents like $400 from that summer because they were paying him for a job he definitely wasn't doing.

"And there's no way they would have paid him a _dime _for the job he _was _doing."

"That's a good thing because that would be prostitution, and that's illegal." Rachel means it as a jibe and also as a means to make the conversation go away, but it doesn't work.

"Well, I hate to be the one to break this to you," and Rachel can tell she doesn't hate it at all, "but your boyfriend _was _a prostitute for several years. Just ask Mrs. Nelson."

Mrs. Nelson, the next door neighbor. Mrs. Nelson who was wearing a bikini in her _front _yard and rubbing tanning oil all over her legs when Rachel and Santana got back from their pedicures just an hour ago. Mrs. Nelson who is married with two teenage sons. Mrs. Nelson who is at _least _forty.

It's not like Rachel doesn't know about all of those things, but it doesn't mean she likes thinking about it. She doesn't like thinking about a _lot _of the things Noah _used _to do. Like the fact that he was a teenage whore or the fact that he was a bully or the fact that he once helped vandalize the side of her house. Sometimes when she _does _think about those things, she gets really mad, but she can't do anything about it because it's not right to hold something from years ago over someone's head. Or at least that's what she tells herself. So she tries not to think about it at all; she tries, instead, to focus on the Noah she has _now _because that one would never do those things that the other one used to do.

She changes the subject, asking about Brittany instead because she hasn't talked to her in awhile. Santana tells her she's back in LA taking more classes. She didn't make it through the Vegas round of the show, but they told her to come back next year. So she's taking more classes, trying to learn more technique. Rachel really doesn't understand how she's affording to _live _in Los Angeles, but she must be making it happen somehow.

Then Santana babbles on about herself. She's "kind of" got a boyfriend who she insists is not really a boyfriend at all, more just "the dude I'm fucking." That's why she doesn't feel bad trying to seduce the new pool boy, and Rachel watches them make eyes at each other for like a full hour straight. She's pretty positive that if she weren't there, they'd already be naked in the pool and on their way up to San's room. She stays put just to make sure that doesn't happen. She's always trying to make Santana less of a ho, but she's only successful a tiny amount of the time.

Santana comes over that night, and they all drink beer and watch movies. Santana spends most of the night making fun of Destiny for dating Finn, but it goes over Destiny's head because she doesn't know Santana. And she even tells Rachel in the kitchen at one point that Santana's "really sweet." It turns into more of a get-together because Tina and Artie and Mercedes all show up at different points. Rachel makes sure to whisper to Mercedes that Destiny thinks Santana's sweet, and they both find it a lot funnier than they probably should.

The night takes a turn for the worse when Rachel ends up half-drunk and in tears.

It's dumb, but she just freaks out and makes Noah go to the bathroom with her. Then she just starts crying and saying she doesn't want to leave, and he tells her to calm down and that she's "being crazy," and that just sends her over the edge. She starts yelling at him that she's not crazy and that it's not crazy to want to be with someone you're supposed to love and a bunch of other stuff she won't remember saying the next day. He gets pissed because she won't quiet down when he asks her to, so he leaves her in the bathroom and slams the door on his way out. She sits on the toilet and cries for another ten minutes until somebody starts knocking saying they need to pee. She leaves then, and when she gets back to the living room, Noah and Santana are arguing _loudly _while everyone else just sits around and watches.

She ends up sleeping on the living room floor between Santana and Tina, but she wakes up at six and goes upstairs to crawl into bed with Noah.

There's an open house on Saturday, and since Noah's not working, he and Rachel take Bekah on a day trip to Cincinnati. They do some shopping and eat lunch, and then Bekah says she wants to go to a Reds game, and Rachel's outnumbered two to one and finds herself sitting in the stadium trying to keep up with the game. She keeps being distracted by the fact that the Cubs have better uniforms, and she wonders what Noah would say if she pointed this out.

It's a fun day even though the Reds get massacred. It's really, really hot outside, though, and Rachel feels like she's dying by the time they make it back to the car. They blast the air the entire ride home, and they fight over the radio station. Rachel claims that since it's her car, she gets to pick. Noah claims that since he's driving, he gets to pick. And Bekah throws in her own opinion that _she _should pick since the youngest.

In the end, they settle on Bekah's choice, since it's the most neutral.

(And also so she won't whine).

The realtor has left a note on the counter, stating that there was a moderate turnout and that there is some potential interest. Rachel doesn't know what that means, and Noah says it sounds like bullshit. Rachel kind of thinks it does, too, but she doesn't say this.

There are no offers, though. Two weeks pass after the open house, and there's nothing. The realtor says she'll do another open house next month, but it's just annoying. They know all about the housing market and how it sucks, but it's still hard to be on this end of it. They can't _afford _this house, and the longer it takes to sell, the further into savings Noah has to dip. She knows he hates that. He's been very responsible with the money they got from life insurance, but it's not like he can afford a mortgage payment with what he makes in tips. Taking a thousand dollars out of savings every single month to keep from being foreclosed on really adds up.

Rachel tentatively suggests asking his dad for money, and he looks at her like he either hates or like she's certifiably insane. She doesn't see what the big deal is because his dad's already sending money- mostly just money for stuff Bekah wants or claims to need. He paid for the upstairs bathroom leak to be fixed, and he offered to help pay for anything else that needed fixing before the house went up. But Noah won't ask him for anything. He has to be forced into taking things when they're _offered, _he certainly won't come out and ask.

Things are better. Sort of. Bekah seems okay with her dad and goes over to visit on the weekends sometimes. Noah will acknowledge him if they happen to see each other, but he doesn't initiate any kind of contact or conversation. Rachel's not sure anybody could really ask for more than that. Ideally, she'd like to see them make peace and like to see _some _kind of relationship there because she thinks they both probably need it. But she understands that there's too much back story there and that Noah went through a lot and can't just forgive and forget everything.

Bekah starts seventh grade, and Rachel worries about her.

She worries that her grades will slip again. She worries that she'll start getting into trouble again. She worries that people will still treat her strangely and that Bekah will continue using her fists as an outlet for her anger. She just worries. She knows Noah worries, too, and he takes the whole first day of school off work so that he can drive her and pick her up and find out all about her classes and her teachers and everything.

Bekah gets in the car that afternoon and declares that she's never going back to that school ever again.

Noah rolls his eyes and drives them home, and Bekah sits in the backseat with her arms crossed over her chest and a look on her face that's so focused and angry that it can only mean she's fighting _hard _not to cry. Rachel wants to ask what happened, but she doesn't want to push, especially when she can tell Bekah's thisclose to ending up in tears. When they get home, Bekah goes upstairs, and Rachel just kind of watches Noah as he starts unloading the dishwasher.

"Don't you think you should talk to her?"

"She's just being a dramatic little girl. She hates school? Well, so the fuck did I, but I still went. She'll get over it."

Rachel's nearly positive that this is about a whole lot more than just hating school. She waits until Noah's watching some baseball game, and then she goes upstairs and knocks on Bekah's door.

It's a boy.

The story comes tumbling out a lot more easily than Rachel would have expected, but really all she has to do is ask, and Bekah's practically crying as she talks about some boy named Max who supposedly flirted with her all summer but was holding hands with Kelsey Amons after lunch.

It's silly. Obviously. Because they're twelve. And really, Rachel's not sure when all of this supposed flirting was taking place because this is the first time she's ever heard of Max, and Kelsey Amons was over here for a sleepover like two weeks ago. But she tries to be sensitive and listen and offer some kind of sympathy. It doesn't work because Bekah's not budging.

"Fuck school. I'm not going back there."

Rachel makes her come downstairs for dinner, and the three of them eat takeout at the kitchen table. Noah's being kind of a dick, and Bekah's still being all teenage broody. Rachel just watches them, wondering how long it's going to take for them to actually kill each other. She tried to explain to Noah why his sister was upset before she came down for dinner. He just rolled his eyes and said something about "fucking stupid little girls" and left it at that. Now he's looking pissed off, and Rachel's apparently not the only one who notices.

"Stop looking at me like that."

Bekah's demand is met with a hateful, "Who the fuck is this Max kid?"

Bekah's pissed after that, and she glares at Rachel who glares at Noah because she _told _him not to say anything.

"You better not be fucking around with some little asshole. I fucking mean it."

"It's none of your business!"

"The hell it's not." He's really mad, and it's just stupid. It really is. "I swear to god, if I find out-"

"Oh, my god, you're so stupid!" Bekah practically screams it when she interrupts him. Then she turns her glare back on Rachel, and the tears that have been threatening to leak all afternoon finally slip out. "Why did you tell him that?"

Rachel opens her mouth to say something (she's not sure what), but it doesn't matter because Bekah's running out of the kitchen and stomping up the stairs. And wow. What a lovely dinner.

"You _are _being stupid," she tells Noah the second they hear his sister's bedroom door slam.

"She doesn't need to be talking about boys and shit."

"Why?" Rachel shakes her head quickly. "She's not allowed to have a crush? It's not like they're doing anything! They're in seventh grade!"

"You wanna know what _I _was doing in seventh grade? Ask your BFF."

He gets up and throws his plate in the sink before going into the living room and turning the TV volume up way too loud. It's the second time in as many days that she's been reminded of PuckAndSantana. And she hates that. She knows it's dumb, but she hates that there ever _was _a PuckAndSantana, even though she's worked hard for years convincing herself that she doesn't care. She knows somewhere in her head that high school (and middle school apparently) was really fucked up. She knows they all lived up to a small town cliché where everyone just switched partners all the time, and she knows it's crazy that Noah got Santana's virginity and Santana got Finn's and Finn got hers... And Noah and Finn are best friends, and now she and Santana pretty much are, too. Add Quinn into it, and it's just worse (thankfully none of them are best friends with Quinn, so they can all act like she doesn't exist now). But she knows, okay? She knows, but that doesn't mean she likes being reminded of it.

So she leaves and goes home and doesn't tell either one of them bye. Bekah's mad at her, and she thinks she's probably in a fight with Noah even though she's not really sure what it's about. She could go to Santana's, but she's pissed at her, too, and she doesn't know the reasons behind that, either. So she just goes home, and she tells her dads that she just missed them and neither of them question her sudden appearance.

She cries a little bit that night, and then she gets mad at herself remembering how many times she cried herself to sleep in that bed while she was in high school.

She doesn't hear from Noah at all, and that makes her even angrier. He texts her at 2:32 in the morning, though, and just says _I love you. _They're still fighting, and he's probably still mad. She's mad, too, but a little less now.

It's Friday when it happens.

Things are kind of back to normal. They don't actually have a fight or anything, and it's one of those things where they're just sort of able to pretend nothing happened and slip straight back into things like usual. Bekah's still moody, but she's that way a good ninety-five percent of the time now. She goes to school all week and complains every day. She bitches every morning, and she's mad every afternoon. When she gets home on Thursday, things seem exceptionally bad. She won't say a word, though, and she definitely won't tell anyone what's wrong now that Rachel made the mistake of telling Noah and Noah acted like an asshole.

Rachel doesn't see her Friday morning, and she's gone when she finally gets up and goes downstairs for breakfast. Noah's working a double and has to be at work from 9 to 8; he's definitely not looking forward to it, and Rachel can't blame him. Finn's working at the tire shop for most of the day and says he has to go with Burt to pick up some things out of town later. Rachel has three hours of vocal training in the morning and then has a dentist appointment that afternoon. Everyone's going to be pretty busy, so the kitchen's full of passing good mornings and goodbyes, and they're all on their way.

It's a terrible day right from the start.

She's flat on three different notes during her warmup, and she's straining too much on some of the others. She's had the same vocal coach since she was four, and Marianne is _not _amused. She lectures her for a good fifteen minutes, claiming that she _knows _Rachel's neglecting her practice and not taking care of her voice. She tells her that if she's not serious, then she needs to leave and stop wasting both their time. It's harsh, but that's how Marianne is- no nonsense, and Rachel generally appreciates it.

Today, she feels like pointing out that _she's _training at one of the most impressive musical theatre programs in the world, while Marianne is teaching _Do Re Mi _to first graders in Lima. She keeps her mouth closed and manages not to say any of this.

It's nearly noon when she finally gets a break, and she takes her water out to the sidewalk for some fresh air. She's tired, and her throat's starting to hurt. She knows that's because she _hasn't _been taking the best care of herself, but she'd rather die than admit it right now. Her phone's been off because the school has strict policies about those sorts of things, and Rachel learned a long time ago not to violate them. She flips it on while she's on break, though, and listens to her voicemail when the notification pops up.

The first message is from a number she doesn't recognize, and a unfamiliar woman's voice comes on the line. _"Yes, this message is for Rachel Berry. This is Ms. Hutchison at the middle __school, and Rebekah's needing someone to pick her up. If you could give me a call back as soon as you get this, I'd really appreciate it." _She's worried, but she listens to the second message before she hangs up. It's Finn. _"Hey, the school called me, and I had to go pick Bekah up... Call me back, it's kind of important."_

Kind of important...

Rachel's worried, so she hits send on her phone, and Finn answers on the third ring.

"Hey."

She wonders if he realizes how dumb that sounds. He could at least elaborate and give her some sort of indication as to what's going on- something more than _hey._

"What's wrong with Bekah?"

"She... had an accident."

"What kind of accident?" Rachel's not in the mood to play this game. The last time she got a phone call about an accident, someone was _dead._

"Well, it wasn't really like an _accident..."_

"_Finn." _God, sometimes she just wants to shoot him.

"She got hit with a cherry slushie."

Rachel looks up at the sky. It's _hot _outside, and the August sun is blazing. She feels an involuntary shiver go through her anyway.

"I'll be home in a few minutes."

She goes in to tell Marianne that she's leaving, and she doesn't even care when her teacher starts going off about commitment and focus and a bunch of other stuff that seems really dumb right now. She tries to call Noah while she's driving home, but his phone keeps going to voicemail. She texts him and tells him to call her, even though she knows it'll be awhile before he checks his phone. She doesn't really know what she's feeling or what to think right now.

Mostly, she doesn't know what she's supposed to _say._

Bekah's upset when she gets to the house. Not that that's surprising. Slushies take awhile to get used to, and Rachel knows firsthand. Finn's not being much help, but Rachel can't blame him. He's never been great with crying girls, and she's sure he has no idea what to do about this. She doesn't, either, come to that, but maybe she can at least get Bekah calmed down a little bit.

"Nobody would answer the phone!" Bekah kind of screams it when Rachel finds her in the upstairs bathroom. "They tried to call you and Noah and Dad! Finn's the only one who would answer."

"My phone was off," Rachel tries to explain quietly. "Noah's not allowed to have his on at work."

"My mom would have answered." Bekah's not crying, but she looks damn close to it. "No matter what."

Rachel doesn't know what to say to that, so she just pushes Bekah's shoulders until she's sitting on the edge of the tub. She's changed clothes and washed her face, but her hair is still soaked, and if her hair weren't so dark, Rachel knows it would be tinged a bright red.

"You have to wash underneath first," she says softly, and she turns on the tap and kind of slides Bekah to the floor so she can put her head under it. "If you don't, all the ice from the top gets stuck underneath and mats up."

"How do you know this?" Bekah keeps her eyes fixed on Rachel as she leans her head back and lets it be rinsed.

Rachel just shrugs one shoulder, not really willing to let all her secrets out. Especially since they're not all _her _secrets.

"This is so dumb! It fucking burns!" Bekah blinks several times, probably to hide her tears but maybe also because it's still stinging a little.

"It goes away."

Rachel finishes washing Bekah's hair in silence, and she knows what it feels like to be sitting there. She should be better at this. She should have more to say, better advice. She kind of just wants to cry.

Bekah finally _does _cry when Rachel's finished and helping her towel-dry her hair. It's quiet, not big huge sobs or anything, but she's obviously very upset. Rachel just hugs her, and she's a little surprised that Bekah lets her.

"Who did it?" she finally asks.

She gets a broken little, "Max," in return, and she knows that makes it worse. "I think someone told him to."

Noah's _furious _when he gets home and finds out.

He doesn't do much to help the situation when he starts screaming at Bekah demanding to know why she didn't stand up for herself.

"The next time any little shithead fucks with you, kick his fucking ass!"

Bekah just blinks at him, and Rachel hopes she doesn't start crying again. When she's confident that she won't, she turns her attention to Noah and tells him exactly what she thinks of his 'advice.'

"You want her to get expelled?" She's serious, and she thinks he's ridiculous for making such a rash suggestion. He doesn't seem to care.

"I don't give a shit!" he shoots back hotly, and Bekah's still just sitting there saying nothing. "You want her to just sit there and fucking _take _it so she can get a slushie lobbed at her face every fucking week til she's sixteen? Just because she doesn't have enough guts to take up for herself?"

It's fucked up, and he knows it. She stares at him, and she can tell from the way his eyes kind of twitch that he knows he's gone too far. Bekah doesn't know what's going on or that there's a whole other conversation happening underneath the one she's hearing. She doesn't know that her dear, sweet big brother is the one who actually _invented _the teenage torture tool that just humiliated her in front of the entire school. It's terrible that something that started that many years ago is _still _going on, and Rachel wonders if he would have still done it if he knew back when he threw that very first slushie that his baby sister would be getting doused in them years.

She can't take it. It's just too much, and the past couple of weeks have just been one bad memory after the next. It's easy to temporarily forget some things, but that just makes it harder when the memories come flooding back. She can't stay here anymore and look at him and see all the bad things that happened because if she does, she's going to find herself against a grudge she can't break, and she doesn't want that.

So she leaves.

She mumbles that she's going home, and then she grabs her purse and her keys and leaves through the backdoor. She's not going to cry over this. She stopped crying over slushies and bullies and high school _bullshit _the second she left that hellhole, and she's not about to start now. It's not even close to be worth it.

It's still light outside, but the sun's starting to go down. She makes it around the house to the driveway and almost to her car when she hears the front door open and slam and hears footsteps running behind her.

"Rachel, wait."

And she does, but only because his hand catches her around the hip and holds her in place. She could probably move if she tried, but she stays where she is. The way he's breathing kind of freaks her out a little bit even if she can't see him.

"Just wait," and that's almost a whisper. He doesn't sound like himself, and she hates that she's a little bit worried.

"Why?" she finally asks, and she swallows because doing anything else will result in tears. She's _not _crying.

"Because I'm sorry." He doesn't even wait a second before saying it. She closes her eyes, but she feels herself being turned around. He's still got one hand low on her hip, and his other is on her shoulder. She opens her eyes, and he's staring at her in a way she normally only sees during sex. "I'm so fucking _sorry." _Every word comes out slowly and separately.

She just blinks at him. She doesn't know what to say, and she still feels like crying. But he's pushing her backwards up against her car, and his face is against her neck. The fingers holding her hip dig in a little tighter, and she can hear every breath he takes as his chest rises and falls right against hers.

"Just don't leave." His words are muffled against her neck, but she hears them. She wants to be angry or hurt or finally get her chance to tell him how _she _felt the very first time he threw that slushie. She wants to tell him just how much it hurt and how embarrassing it was and how she went home that day and cried for hours. But she doesn't tell him any of that.

She just lets him keep his face there for a few minutes, and then she follows him back into the house.

They get into a little argument that night right before bed. Bekah's already asleep, and Noah's calmed down to a point where he's not ordering his sister into physical violence. Rachel's tired and just wants to sleep, but Noah's babbling and taking off his clothes, and really only one thing registers as she's crawling under the covers.

"I can't take care of her without you."

She turns her head and looks at him, and their eyes lock for a few seconds before she asks again, "Come to New York."

He actually rolls his eyes before lifting up the sheets and climbing in on his side. "I can't."

"Why not?" She already knows all the reasons why not, but she keeps trying to convince herself that if he hears how stupid they are often enough that he'll stop believing them.

He doesn't give her a reason why not, though. Instead, he gets kind of hateful and says, "I haven't asked you to fucking stay here, stop asking me to go there."

"Why haven't you?" she demands, and she doesn't care if she's actually glaring at him. "Ask me! You should _want _me to be here!"

"I _do _want you here!" He seems to realize how loud they're getting and lowers his voice. "Jesus Christ, Rachel, I also want you to have all that shit you want... Just... Just stop it." And he sounds kind of halfway exasperated and halfway exhausted at the end.

They don't say anything else about it. They just go to sleep.

When she wakes up, it's still dark. The digital clock on the nightstand says 5:03 AM. Noah's hand is sliding down her stomach and into her panties, and she blinks a few times to see him watching her. When he sees her eyes, he moves his head and kisses her, really slowly and really pointedly. Then he just lifts his head a few inches and whispers, "Hi."

"Why are you awake?" She looks past him at the clock again to make sure she read right the first time. He's got his hand all the way inside her underwear now, and his fingers are just barely brushing against her.

"Because I can't stop staring at you."

He doesn't wait for an answer, just pushes her a little until she's on her back and rolls over her. His hand is still between them, and it feels so good like this. She's not even sure she's fully awake, but she loves this. He does, too.

She feels his hand move, and he's sliding her panties over her hips and down her legs. She doesn't protest or question it, just lifts up a little to help him. He's already naked and hard, and he doesn't wait for permission before he's just pushing into her. He kisses her again, still so slowly and lazily. She doesn't even try to fight the low moan that settles at the back of her throat. She feels like his tongue is chasing the moves of his body, she really thinks he's probably the best kisser in the world. It's all slow and even, everything is paced, and if it didn't feel so damn good, she thinks he could probably fuck her to sleep.

"Hey," he whispers, moving his mouth away from hers and licking lazily at the front of her throat while one hand's under her t-shirt taking advantage of the no bra to bed rule. She murmurs something in response, but her eyes are closed and she's just _feeling. _"Hey, baby, look at me."

She manages to get her eyes open, and he's staring at her in that way that always makes everything tingle. But then he's pushing up just a little bit and looking down. She knows he's watching them because he loves doing that, and it always makes her hot just thinking about it. God, he's so... _good. _

She makes some other kind of noise. It's supposed to be a question of why he needed her eyes open, but it's more like a low kind of whine. It gets his attention, though, and he kisses her again, sliding his tongue into her mouth in the exact same rhythm that he's sliding everything else. His breathing is deep and even, and she can see a thin line of sweat just under his eyes.

"Rach..." His voice drifts for a second, and then his forehead is pressed right against hers. "Rachel, I don't... I never want to be without you. Ever."

Her eyes slip closed again, but she can feel his eyelashes against her forehead and can tell that he's fighting to keep his own open. He talks to during sex pretty regularly, but it's normally dirty things about what he wants to do to her and what he swears he _will _do to her and that kind of thing. He doesn't usually _say _anything. It makes her chest tighten.

"We're gonna make it work," he whispers, and his breath is hot and his voice quiet. "I swear."

They don't talk anymore after that. They're both just there _feeling, _and it's amazing and great and everything else. He makes sure they both come at the same time, and then they just lie there. He won't even move for a long time, and it seems to take forever before they catch their breath. They could fall back to sleep like this, with him still _right there. _But he finally moves off of her, and she follows him immediately. She wants to cuddle, she doesn't care if it's nearly time to wake up. She wants his arms around her and his body pressed right up against hers.

"Swear," he says again, and she sees his eyes close dazedly.

Falling back to sleep has never been easier.

…

A/N: Thanks for reading, reviews are love!


	21. September, Sophomore Year

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter 19**

**SEPTEMBER**

…

September happens, and Rachel has to go back to school.

She doesn't go early this time. In fact, she waits until the last possible moment to leave Lima, and it's hard. She's been home all summer and feels like she's barely seen her parents. Noah's taking her to New York this time, so she says goodbye to her dads at home, and she kind of feels like crying because she's leaving and she's just _now _realizing she misses them.

She says goodbye to everyone else, to her friends that are still around, to Finn and Destiny, to Bekah. It's hard leaving, thinking that the house could sell at any time and maybe this is the last time she'll ever see it. She doesn't have plans to come home until Thanksgiving, and that's too far away. She knows she'll cave before then, but she's trying to be mature and rational and not get too far ahead of herself.

They drive her car to New York. Both the trunk and the backseat are packed to the max, and she thinks it's probably unsafe driving with so much stuff in the back. The rear view mirror is basically rendered useless, and the back of the car is actually sagging a little bit with all the extra weight. She really doesn't know how she has so much _stuff, _and whenever it's packed, she's always a little bit shocked at how much there is.

They both do their best to act totally normal during the car ride. They argue over the radio (he finally gives in and lets her plug her iPod in). They talk about something one of his coworkers did earlier in the week. They drink slushies and play a driving game she forces him into. They do everything except acknowledge the fact that they're potentially about to be separated for months.

They stop for the night somewhere outside of Harrisburg. It's silly because the trip is long but definitely doable in a day. There are only a few hours left, but Rachel says she doesn't feel well and that she wants to stop, so he does and checks them into a hotel while she sits in the car and feels guilty about lying. She's not sick, she just needs to prolong this as long as possible. It's the last night they'll have for a really long time, and she doesn't want to spend it crowded in an extra-long twin bed with her roommate four feet away.

It's kind of nice. The hotel (really a _motel) _is pretty crappy, but it's cheap and relatively clean. After they take their things upstairs, they walk to a deli across the street and eat dinner. It's quiet here, and there's only one other occupied table. This whole little town is quiet, and Rachel realizes that tomorrow she's going to be back in New York and _quiet _will no longer exist. Noah mentions being so close to Philly, and she knows how much he hates the fact that he didn't even get to do a whole semester there. If things hadn't gotten so bad, he'd be back in Philadelphia right now, and she wouldn't be dreading the distance so much.

Then again, if things hadn't gotten so bad, they might not even be together right now...

They stay at the diner for awhile, even after they finish eating, just because it's cute, and she kind of likes the fact that he's holding her hand on the table and making her laugh. He doesn't let go of her hand when they finally leave, either. When they're walking up the stairs to their room, she tugs him a little faster and giggles when he practically trips up the steps. He pulls her hair and shoves her a little bit with an annoyed face, but he smiles as he keeps a firm grip on her hand and doesn't let her fall.

It's the last night they have together, and she makes sure they don't waste it.

She gets that familiar thrill when she sees the skyscrapers and lights as they pull into the city the next morning. She loves New York, even if it's sometimes hard to be here. She loves this city, and she wants to spend her life here. There's just something about it that she's drawn to. It's always been that way- every time she's been here since she was a little girl. She almost forgets that she's dreading it.

She really _does _forget when they make it to her dorm, and her roommates are all there to hug her. They've kept in touch over the summer, but they haven't talked much. She's excited to see them, realizes she's _missed _them. It's probably lucky that she had a good set of girls freshman year and that they liked each other enough to sign up for a second year. They look pretty much the same. Mia's hair is shorter, almost to her chin; Jessica looks like she's lost a little weight, maybe five pounds. But for the most part, they're still the same, and she's happy to see them.

They bring her things up. Noah does most of it. She helps some, but she does her best to look cute and helpless so that he won't make her do more. It kind of works because she gets out with the bare minimum of lifting and carrying. While he brings her things up, she mostly stands around, holds the door, and catches up with the girls. He kind of glares at her one time when he's carrying a particularly heavy box and she's looking at pictures of Jessica's summer trip to London, but she jumps up on her tiptoes and kisses him quickly, and he pretty much forgives her.

He's tired after the last box comes up, so they take a nap in her bed, and it sucks that they can't do anything else, but that's the downside to roommates. Besides, he needs to rest because he's got to drive back, and she doesn't want to worry about him falling asleep at the wheel or anything. She doesn't do much sleeping of her own, but she does her best to memorize everything about the way his body feels curled up around hers because she knows she'll be missing it more than she cares to admit.

He leaves around 8, and it's still mostly light outside. She feels bad because it's already late, he has to drive all the way back to Ohio, _and _he has to go to work tomorrow. He tells her it's okay, though, and that the power nap worked.. She walks him outside to where the car is parked, and it suddenly hits her like a ton of bricks that he's actually _leaving. _He goes to hug her, but the second his arms are around her, the tears start, and she freezes because she doesn't want him to go.

He must notice that she's crying because he pulls back a little and looks at her. "Hey," he says quietly. "Don't cry." And he uses one hand to wipe her cheek before he lets it settle in her hair. And then it's just over.

"Noah, I don't want you to go." She knows she sounds desperate and pathetic, but she doesn't care. She's blinking at him through tears, and all she wants to do is hold onto him and make sure he doesn't go any further away than he is right now.

"Rach..." He sighs and looks like he hates this, and she knows it's not fair to make him feel guilty over something he can't control. She's not even _trying _to make him feel guilty. She just wants him to stay there and not leave her. Maybe ever.

"I hate this."

"It's gonna be okay," and his voice is pretty quiet. He backs her up closer to the car, and she's more than aware that they're outside in the street and that plenty of people are probably looking at them. Then his voice drops even lower, and he leans down closer to her. "Rachel, please don't do this."

He's staring right in her eyes, and she knows he's asking her not to cry because it's making everything harder. She tries really hard to stop because she knows it's not fair to him. It's just a lot easier said than done... All she can do is stare at him and know that he's not going to be there for the next however long, and she can't handle it. She doesn't _want _to handle it.

He swears under his breath when he hugs her again, and she cries a little bit harder once her face hits the front of his shirt. He just lets her stay that way for a little while, and he pets her hair like she's a small child in need of consoling. She feels like one, and really, she might keep crying just so he won't let her go.

He does, though, after awhile. He pulls back just a little bit and lets one hand rest against her neck while the other stays low on her back. She's still leaning against the car, and she's kind of glad because her legs feel weak.

"Rachel, please stop crying," he says quietly. "I can't leave when you're doing this."

"So don't." And it sounds so simple. It _is _simple, and right now she doesn't understand why he can't just _see _that.

"You know I have to," and his voice is firm and maybe a little annoyed. She knows why, though, deep down. Even if she doesn't want to admit it. "I have to go to work tomorrow. And Bekah."

And Bekah.

That's what it all comes down to, and Rachel knows it. She feels like a terrible person sometimes when she thinks about it. She's just being selfish, and she knows that Bekah's the most important thing right now. It's still hard, though, because she needs Noah, too- maybe not as much as Bek does, but she needs him. And she doesn't want him to leave.

She wipes her eyes anyway and nods.

"Just be careful," she mumbles. It's late, and she knows he hasn't had enough sleep. It's a long drive back, and she wants him to be safe. "Call me when you get home."

"I will." He presses his lips to hers, and she tries not to cry again. He whispers, _"I love you," _and she can barely choke the words out to say it back before she presses her face into his neck and holds onto him for just a little while longer.

She doesn't start crying again until he's pulling her car out into the street and heading back to Ohio.

Going back to school is more difficult than she expects. She thinks falling into the groove of her class schedule will be easier than it was freshman year because she had more control over choosing her courses and the times of her classes. There aren't as many 8 AM classes, but that doesn't change much. She still struggles some days to make herself actually get out of bed and walk across campus to her classes. It's even difficult sometimes to find the motivation to go to her studio classes.

She just doesn't feel as driven as she should.

She stays away from parties. She doesn't really go out at all, and she doesn't do that much socializing even with the people she knows from her programs and in her dorms. She eats with her roommates pretty regularly, but that's about as social as she gets. Most of her time is spent texting or on the phone, and she knows she's officially one of _those girls._

It's different, though. Or at least she tells herself that it's different. She's not constantly in touch with her boyfriend just because she misses him (though she really, really _does _miss him). But it's different because she's also worried. She needs to be in constant contact because she worries about him and worries about Bekah, and she needs to know that they're alright. She needs to know that he's not working too many hours, and she needs to know that Bekah's not getting into fights or finding herself on the other end of bullying. There haven't been anymore slushies since the first, but Bekah's constantly on edge and still hates school.

She calls Rachel one night while she's in the dining hall, but she answers even though it's loud and possibly rude to talk on the phone during dinner. She's glad she answered, though, because Bekah's crying, and all Rachel wants to do is go home and make sure she's okay. She has that urge too often.

She asks her what's wrong, and Bekah tells her she failed a science test and that she's going to get in trouble even though she 'really, really _tried.'_

"I'm just stupid!"

"You're not stupid." Rachel starts gathering up her trash and motions to her roommates that she's going to head back to the dorm. "Did you study?"

"I studied a _lot! _I just can't do it!"

"Bekah, calm down." Rachel dumps her things into the trashcan and heads out of the dining hall. "It's just one test."

"I'm gonna get in trouble, and it's not my fault." She's crying a little harder now. "I'm really trying, I'm just dumb!"

"You're not going to get in trouble." And she won't, Rachel will make sure of that. "But are you sure that you're really studying? And listening in class? You can't just pick up your book the night before the test and expect to do well."

Rachel knows from experience- she has a low C on a Western Civ exam she took last week as proof.

Her grades continue to be less than stellar and, she gathers, so do Bekah's. Rachel knows why hers aren't that great, though, and she knows it's because she really doesn't _care. _Chemistry seems really stupid compared to the fact that she has so much to worry about at home- things that really _do _matter. Her dads ask about her grades, and she lies and tells them she's doing fine. It's true to an extent- she's not going to _fail _anything, but they certainly shouldn't expect a 4.0.

She only has one theatre class this year, plus her workshop group. The theatre class is more theory than anything, and she even has trouble paying attention there. When she sings in workshop, one of the professors comments that her voice sounds weaker than it did last year and asks if she's sick. That scares her, though- scares her at least enough to start focusing on her voice again. She heard it all summer from her vocal coach, but hearing it from an actual professor kind of puts the fear of God in her.

She's not going to sabotage her future. Her voice is her ticket to stardom, and she's not going to screw around with that.

She asks her dads for more money so that she can hire a personal coach in the city, and they agree without too many questions. She finds a vocal teacher and starts paying close attention to everything she eats and drinks again. She keeps her voice in shape with daily exercises, and she doesn't even acknowledge Mia when she complains about it. Her voice is important- that's what matters.

It's strange in a way, that she feels closer to her high school friends now than she actually did while she was in high school. After spending the summer at home and in such close quarters with a good number of her old friends, she feels a slightly tighter bond. She talks to Tina and Mercedes more now, whereas she didn't speak to them at all last year and only kept up with them on Facebook. She and Finn and friends again, too- _real _friends. They text pretty regularly, and she talks to him sometimes when she can't get in touch with Noah or Bekah.

She _likes _that she has friends at home, even if a lot of them aren't really _home _anymore.

Sometimes she wonders who will end up back in Lima, even out of the ones who have left. Who will come back and start a family and just _stay? _Thinking about staying in Lima used to make her head explode, but now she thinks there are probably worse places to be. At least in Lima she's safe and has people who care about her. She's starting to feel the difference already, and New York is starting to feel lonelier than ever. It's not that she doesn't like the city, she loves it. She loves what she's doing, too. She's on the brink of every dream she's ever had. This life is what she was _born _to do.

But she's learning quickly that knowing you were born for something and know you'd die for something else aren't necessarily the same thing.

She's in a lab when she gets a text from Noah that just says, _"He left again." _She reads it maybe ten minutes after it's received, maybe ten minutes too late. She doesn't know for sure what it means, but it's easy to infer. Something inside of her drops, and she quickly excuses herself to the hall to call him back.

It goes straight to voicemail and continues that way all day.

She tries to call Bekah, but no one's answering there, either. She gets in touch with Finn and finds out that he's with Destiny in Cincinnati and that he hasn't talked to Noah since the day before. Her dads don't know what's going on, but they tell her they'll try to find out. It's awful because she can't do anything about it. She doesn't even know what's going on, and she spends the rest of the day in her room crying because she feels so _useless. _

Her phone rings at 12:28 AM, and she answers it immediately, glad that Mia still hasn't made it home from wherever she's chosen to spend her Thursday night. It's Noah, and she can tell right away that he's very drunk even though he doesn't say anything more at first than, "Hey, baby."

She wants to yell at him. She wants to go off on him for sending her that kind of text message and then turning his phone off and not talking to her all day. She can't, though, because somehow it always seems like he's going through something bad enough that all of his own shitty behavior can somehow be overlooked. One day, she thinks this might cause her to snap.

Today is not that day, though, and when he says, "_Fuck, _I miss you so much..." she closes her eyes because she knows she's not going to get anything out of him.

That doesn't stop her from trying, though. "Noah, what happened to your dad?"

"Fucked off." He says it like it's no big deal. "Again. Who gives a fuck?" She opens her mouth, but he cuts her off, slurring right back into his previous goal. "God, Rach... I was just thinking about you..."

"Noah." She interrupts him again, a little more sharply this time. "What do you mean fucked off? What _happened?"_

She can practically hear the shrug through the phone. "He put a check in the mailbox with a note saying he's going back to South Carolina, I don't give a shit." She can tell by the edge of anger in his voice that he very much _does _give a shit. "Now fuck him. Rachel, talk to _me."_

She blinks a few times and stares out in front of her. She hates this. He's shutting down, and she can literally _hear _it as it happens. He doesn't do any kind of emotion very well, and on the rare occasions that he shows or talks about his feelings, it's almost always out of some kind of desperation. But this? His dad leaving _again? _He's going to be nothing but angry. Right now that anger's masked by alcohol.

When he's sober, he's going to break his hand again.

When he realizes the anger is really covering up some level of hurt, he's going to drink himself back to pissed off.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asks quietly, keeping her voice at a controlled level because she knows anything else will just send him raging at her.

He wants to know what she's wearing, and she feels terrible and empty when she humors him, but she doesn't know what else to do because she's hundreds of miles away, and he's alone and drunk on a weeknight. It scares her, but she knows she should be doing _something, _she just doesn't know what.

Her predictions are entirely correct, and her father calls her the next day and leaves a voicemail that (not so nicely) states, _"I'm at the ER with your boyfriend who has now moved onto punching brick walls. Call me back."_

What scares her the most is the sense of deja vu she gets when she talks to Bekah.

Bekah, who cried for weeks over her mother's death, references her father's latest abandonment with, "I don't give a shit. He can fuck off."

And Rachel knows, _knows, _that she's getting that directly from Noah. It's not healthy, of course, because Noah's not doing anything but masking emotion (years of therapy haven't left her _completely _knowledgeless about human psychology). Bekah is looking at Noah, seeing that he's not crying, not upset, not _anything, _and she's copying his reactions so that she doesn't have to be sad or hurt or whatever the normal reactions to parental abandonment are.

It's very sad.

It's worse because there's nothing Rachel can do about it. If she brings it up or tries to talk about it, it's going to end in a fight. She doesn't feel like fighting when the only thing that ever accomplishes is giving Noah a new outlet to hide his real feelings. It's better to just stay out of it. But it just sucks. And she feels so terrible for Bekah that she can barely even stand it.

She doesn't know what happened and hardly knows any of the details. But she can't believe he would just up and _leave _again. Not after all that bullshit he spewed about wanting to help them out and wanting to be a part of Bekah's life and all this other crap. He obviously doesn't care about them at all, or there's no way he could have done this- not when they've already been through hell and back. It's not fair.

Rachel's pretty sure she's never actually hated someone before, but that's changing quickly.

She actually _fails _an exam on Monday, and when she realizes she didn't even pick up a book over the weekend, she doesn't care that much. She thinks her lack of concern is probably not even _close _to a good thing.

…

A/N: Thanks for reading! I've been writing some other stuff lately, but I will always make time for this, too. Hope you enjoyed it


	22. October, Sophomore Year

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter 20**

**OCTOBER**

…

The house sells the first Tuesday of October.

Rachel gets the call while she's taking a nap before her last class. She can tell Noah's happy, but she can also sense the weirdness that seems to be lying there under the surface. It's not surprising, of course, because it's a big change, but it's something that's necessary. The offer came in lower than what was requested, but the real estate agent advised not to pass, and Noah calls her with a tentative close date and everything.

It all seems really fast.

He tells her that they've got to move, which means he's got to find a new place to live and pretty quickly. The original idea of moving in with Finn is nixed now that Bekah's in the picture. Finn staying at the house is one thing- them signing a lease together and moving into a small apartment while DCS is breathing down Noah's neck is another. Things aren't set in stone with the custody issue, not by a long shot. They really need to make sure they're doing everything possible to appear responsible and deserving.

Rachel spends a stupid amount of time on Craigslist, looking at apartment and house rentals and trying to find something in a decent price range. There's not going to be much of a profit on the house, so they definitely can't count on that, and really, Noah just doesn't make that much. There aren't a lot of options that are really doable, and Rachel's sure that he's realized this the same as she has.

He signs a lease with an apartment complex just a few miles from their old high school. It's an older complex, and the pictures on the Internet seem very dated, but it's affordable and the location isn't terrible. It's a two bedroom/one bath, and the square footage is just a little larger than Rachel's own apartment-style dorm. But it will work.

Until Noah and Bekah kill each other anyway.

She's not really sure how living _that _close together is going to work out. Their bedrooms are close together in their house, but at least there are two stories and several other rooms to disappear to. The apartment only has two bedrooms, one bathroom, a living room, and what appears to be half a kitchen. There won't really be many places suitable for escape, and Rachel's not sure how well that's going to work out.

But it's a new beginning. Noah and Bekah can make it work, if they try anyway. They don't hear anything else from their dad at all. His cell phone number's changed, and other than a $300 check that shows up in the mail, they basically have no way of even knowing he's alive. The note he left right before he left was stupid, and it took Rachel nearly a whole week before she could convince Noah to read it to her. It basically just said that he was overwhelmed and that he thought they were better off without him and that he would try to help out where he could but that his life was in South Carolina and a bunch of other BS that really just made Rachel furious. She's still mad about it, weeks later. It's just stupid, and she thinks it all sounds like a cop out. She doesn't understand why he even came back if he had no intention of staying.

It all hits a little too close to home for her.

She doesn't say that to Noah, but she tells her dad. She asks him why people think they should randomly show up and force their way into other people's lives if all they're going to do is leave. Again. She doesn't come out and say it, but her dad knows exactly what she means.

"Rachel. It's not the same thing."

She doesn't buy that, and she actually rolls her eyes because it's kind of _exactly _the same thing.

"She shouldn't have come back, and neither should he."

"Shelby Corcoran never had an obligation to you." It's one of the first times since those few weeks during tenth grade that her name's even been brought up. And really, Rachel's offended by the statement.

"She is my _mother," _she shoots back evenly.

"She gave birth to you. The intention was never for her to be your mother." It all sounds so calm and reasonable and like her dad doesn't even give a damn, and really, Rachel's glad she's hundreds of miles away because she wouldn't be able to stop the tantrum that's building up inside of her.

"You paid her to stay out of my life."

"We most certainly did not." Her dad's mad now, and she can tell by the sharpness of his tone. "Your father and I wanted a child, and she was hired to do a job. She was not hired to be your mom, and she was not _paid _to disappear. There were legal contracts involved because it was a very serious situation, not because anyone was getting paid to go into hiding."

Right. She hates hearing it like that. Like her entire existence is nothing more than a business transaction. She tries really hard to never think about those details, but it's something that's always there at the very back of her mind. She loves her parents, and she knows that they love her. But it doesn't stop the edge of bitterness that stays around remembering the fact that she was essentially a _purchased good. _She wonders if kids who are adopted feel the same way, but then she remembers that their birth parents usually don't actually receive _payment. _

"Rachel, she was never supposed to be a part of your life. I'm sorry that she came back and that you ended up getting hurt, but she was never under any kind of obligation to be a parent to you. It is not the same situation as the Puckermans'."

She feels resentful. She really feels like she could start saying a lot of things to her father that would end up getting her seriously into trouble. She doesn't normally talk back or disrespect her parents, but she really feels a lot of non-concern right now. And it hurts.

So she lies about needing to study and hangs up.

The _needing to _part of that statement is actually not a lie. There are plenty of assignments and readings that she could work on, but she has no desire to actually study right now. She hasn't had that desire too often at all this year, and her grades are reflecting it. She's okay, though. As long as she can keep a C average, her parents can't complain _too _much. Of course, they'll _try, _but she can just guilt them into feeling sorry for her, she's quite sure.

She makes the mistake of drinking that night, and since it's the first time in more than a month that she's even _had _alcohol, it doesn't take much to get her drunk. She goes to a party with her roommates, and somewhere between watching Mia make out with a random stranger and telling her own random stranger to stop touching her, she gets her phone, finds a halfway quiet corner, and calls her boyfriend.

He answers even though it's really, really late. She can tell he's halfway asleep, but she's sure he doesn't mind. As soon as he says hello, she blurts out exactly what she told her father earlier.

"My mom showed up and then fucked off. I hate her."

"Rachel? How much did you drink?"

She doesn't know the answer to that question, but she doesn't think it's much. She doesn't care if it is. She ignores him and keeps right on, cussing more than she ever really does. "Fuck them. We don't need them anyway, it's just bullshit!"

"Yeah..." She can tell he's waking up and humoring her now. She's drunk enough not to care.

"We can take care of ourselves," she repeats, this time a little more forcefully. She likes the way her voice sounds when she does that. "We don't need them."

"Yeah. Hey, Rach, where are you?"

"At a party." She sees the creeper who she just brushed off coming toward her, and she glares at him. "Leave me alone," she snaps before he's even said anything.

"Who are you talking to?" It's weird having Noah in her ear and this other guy right in front of her. She might be too drunk to make that work.

"Some douchebag." She giggles because the word sounds funny coming out of her mouth. Also, said douchebag looks offended, which is even funnier. Then he reaches for her elbow, and it stops being so funny. "Stop touching me!" she says again, which is almost an exact quote from minutes before when he kept putting his arm around her waist.

This is apparently the wrong thing to say, though, because all she hears is Noah, now completely awake, saying, "What the fuck! Who's touching you?"

"Nothing, nothing," she says quickly, batting the guy away with a glare.

"Don't let some fucking douchebag touch you, Rachel. Kick him in the nuts!" She giggles again, but she knows he's not even joking. "I'm serious! What the hell, Rachel?"

"It's _nothing," _she says again. She shoves the random guy away, but he doesn't move too much. He's drunk, but he looks kind of amused by the fact that she keeps shoving him off. So she tells him, "My boyfriend says to kick you in the nuts," and he outright laughs. She laughs, too, because she knows it sounds stupid.

God, she's too drunk for this.

Noah, though, is the only one not laughing. "Who the hell are you with?" he asks, and he sounds really serious. She tells him she's there with her roommates, and he demands to talk to one of them.

"The only one I can see is Lexi," she tells him, and she spots her off in the opposite corner doing shots with some random girl. "And I'm not letting her talk to you, she wants to fuck you."

"Rachel." She can tell he's glaring even though she can't see him. "Let me talk to her."

"I want to, too."

"What are you talking about?"

"I want to fuck you, too." Then she giggles and downs the last of her drink. It makes the douchebag laugh, too, and once again, Noah's the only one not amused.

"Give her the phone."

"I have to go," she says, hiccuping a little bit. "I gotta go get a refill. I love you." Then she hangs up and points at the guy whose name she still doesn't know. "If you touch me, I _will _kick you in the nuts."

Her phone rings immediately, and she answers it. "Hi, Noah!" she says sweetly, and she shoves past the guy and through the crowd on her way back to the kitchen.

"Rachel, what the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm going to get a drink."

"Stop drinking. Like _now," _and she wonders if he knows how mean he sounds bossing her around like that. "And get somebody to take you home."

"I'm not ready to leave," she argues. "Noah, my dad is an _asshole."_

She hears him sigh loudly, and she's sure he's probably rolling his eyes. "Where's Lexi?"

"Listen to me!" she insists.

"Your dad's an asshole. Okay, sure. But he's not. Now let me talk to Lexi."

Rachel rolls her own eyes and groans in annoyance just before she actually passes Lexi and basically throws the phone at her. She doesn't even stick around. She just goes to the kitchen to get a refill on her drink.

It's somewhere about the halfway mark of that cup that she realizes her mom's a bitch and is raising her boyfriend's daughter as her own. These are all things she knows, of course, but being drunk and realizing them basically feels like some kind of revelation. She wants to know what Beth looks like and if she's more Noah or more Quinn. She wants to know if Shelby loves her the way she _should _be loving Rachel. She wants to know if all of it was worth it and if Shelby still regrets giving her up or if she's perfectly content with her replacement baby. A baby that could have (one day) been Rachel's step-daughter and instead is like her sister in some fucked up way.

God, her head hurts. She fills her cup back up before it's even empty.

Lexi finds her and gives her back her phone and tells her they're going home. Rachel wants to argue, but she's too tired, and now she's in a really bad mood. She doesn't know where Jessica and Mia are, but she kind of doesn't care. She just stumbles out to the street with Lexi, and they hold each other around the waist as they walk the six blocks back to their dorm.

When they're on the elevator up to their room, Rachel takes off her shoes and glances up just long enough to warn her roommate, "Don't fuck my boyfriend."

The next day when she wakes up, Lex is mad at her, and Noah's pissed, too. Great.

Santana gets fall break the third week of October and calls Rachel to tell her she's coming to New York for the weekend. She doesn't ask if it's okay or if she's got other plans, she just tells her she's coming and that she's staying with her. And then she gives her the flight details, and that's that.

It's not the first time Santana's been to New York, but it's the first time she's visited Rachel. She shows up on Friday morning with a suitcase that's much too large for one weekend worth of clothes, but it's not exactly surprising. It's been nearly two months since Rachel last saw her, and it feels really, _really _good to have someone from home around.

Having Santana in New York is exactly like Rachel imagines it will be.

She wants to shop and eat and not do much else. She has no interest in the tourist attractions, the ones that don't line Fifth Avenue anyway. She's got her father's credit card, and she makes perfectly clear that she intends to max it out in a very short amount of time. Her dad will flip, of course, but by that time, there'll be nothing he can do about it. Santana always does things like that- she lives by a very strict 'better to ask forgiveness than permission' policy, and she's managed to make it work for her so far.

Rachel sees a pair of shoes that she really, _really _loves, and she almost (_almost) _pulls out her own dad's credit card and splurges. Santana is clearly not the best influence because she doesn't normally have these sorts of urges. Still, she maintains some level of self-control and chooses the fact that her parents trust her over the shoes. She's not sure she could convince them that red ballet flats constitute any level of "emergency only," so she just doesn't. Santana, however, buys everything that even remotely looks interesting to her, and then they go out to lunch at an uber-expensive restaurant that Rachel's never even _contemplated _entering.

That night, they go to a concert in the park, and they sit curled up in jackets on a blanket and share a bag of grapes. It's really the nicest night Rachel's had since she's been back, and she takes that as another sign that maybe she really _is _tied to Lima at her core. They gossip about a few of their friends, and then Santana tells her that her roommates are all bitches. It's funny because it's Santana, and if you looked up 'pot calling the kettle black,' the definition would read, 'Santana calling someone else bitchy.' It's also funny because Santana's only met her roommates once, and it was for a cumulative of maybe twenty minutes. Nice that she can draw an opinion so quickly, but Rachel doesn't necessarily agree.

Noah calls while they're walking back to the subway station, and Santana wants to talk to him. Rachel hands over the phone, and she listens to one side of what pretty much can only be called an insult-fest, but when they hang up with each other, Santana grits out, "Love you, dumbass," and it kind of makes Rachel happier than it should.

Twenty-four hours later, that little bit of happiness is long gone.

Santana insists that she can get them into a bar. Rachel doesn't believe it because neither of them have a fake ID, and even if they did, it's next to impossible to use one and get away with it. But Santana's insistent, so they dress up, put on heels that are way too high for either of them, and walk seven blocks to what Santana has already scoped out and calls their 'best bet.' There's a small line of people, but it's moving pretty quickly. There's a bouncer at the door, and when they make it to the front of the line, Rachel's practically _dumbfounded _that all Santana has to do is giggle a little and shrug her shoulders innocently when she's asked for ID. And it _works. _The bouncer smiles at her (kind of creepily) and then ushers them both in.

"Told you," Santana says smugly the second they're inside. Rachel can't do anything but shake her head, mostly because this is _totally _illegal, and that bouncer could get in serious trouble for doing that. Santana doesn't seem to care. She just grabs Rachel's hand and tells her that they have to find someone to buy them drinks.

They settle on two guys who aren't much older than them (though presumably at least twenty-one). One is definitely cuter than the other, and Rachel's not surprised at all when Santana claims that one as her own. She tells Rachel to be her wing-girl, and when Rachel tries to protest, Santana tells her to stop whining and just do it. "It's no big deal."

The guys are named Darren and Tom, and it doesn't take long before Santana appears to be debating whether or not to go home with Darren. Rachel definitely won't let that happen, but the fact that it's even on the table is very helpful in keeping their drinks full. Santana's better at flirting (and also, you know, _single), _so it's obvious that Darren's getting the better deal. Tom, though, seems nice enough, and Rachel gets the feeling that he's been commissioned as the night's wing-man, so maybe they fit right in with each other.

Eventually, Darren asks San if she wants to play some pool, and she giggles a little and nods before shooting Rachel a quick but meaningful look that clearly says _keep the other one occupied. _Then she and Darren disappear somewhere across the bar, and Rachel's left alone at the table with Tom. They talk for a little while, and he orders them new drinks- a round of shots and then a Jack and Coke for him and a Vodka Tonic for her. She thinks he's pretty nice. He's a senior at NYU, and she admits that she's just a sophomore and that she and Santana are both underage. He doesn't seem to care and just laughs as he clinks the bottom of his glass with hers. He's kind of cute, moreso than she originally thought anyway.

She's not exactly sure _how _she ends up kissing him.

It's weird. It's like one second they're talking about majors and the next, their lips are meshed together. She honestly doesn't know if she kissed him or if he kissed her, and it takes longer than it should to kick in and register that it's even happening. Much less that it's so, so _wrong._

It's Santana who initially freaks out. She somehow makes it back across the room in seconds, and she grabs Rachel's arm and actually _yanks _her off the stool and away from Tom. "What the _fuck?" _she all but shrieks. Several people turn around to look, and Tom just looks totally confused. Rachel feels honestly like she might throw up, and she stands planted in place. It's almost like she's frozen, completely oblivious to the way Santana is shaking her arm.

"What the hell are you doing?" Santana sounds half-panicked, and then she turns her glare on Tom. "She has a fucking _boyfriend, _asshole!"

Rachel feels herself being literally _dragged _outside, but she barely even registers it. The outside air hits her like a wave, though, and she blinks into the late-night city air. She hopes it's a dream. She hopes the fresh air will jolt her awake, but there's nothing fresh about New York City air, and this is not a dream.

Shit, shit, _shit._

She's in hysterics in a matter of minutes. Crying, shaking, barely able to even _walk. _Santana's still dragging her like she's a small child being yanked away from a situation. She's also screaming and going off, and Rachel can't do anything but cry because this can't be _real. _It get so bad that Santana is literally having to keep her upright because she can't balance on her own. And she's barking questions, demanding answers to hypotheticals, and Rachel just can't handle it.

She's almost positive she's thisclose to a panic attack.

Apparently Santana notices this because by the time they actually make it back to the dorm, she's stopped screaming and asking Rachel what the fuck is wrong with her and has, instead, started telling her to breathe. "I"m fucking serious, Rachel," she snaps as the elevator doors close. She grabs her by the shoulders and forces her to look at her. "_Breathe. _You're gonna pass out."

"What did I do?" Rachel can barely even choke the words out because the sobs are catching every sound in her throat. "What the hell did I _do?"_

"Breathe, Rachel!" Santana's still pissed, but she looks scared like she might actually believe that Rachel's going to choke or faint or do something else crazy dramatic.

When they get off the elevator, Rachel's still hysterical, and she sees a couple of guys glance down the hallway in their direction with identical WTF looks. She hands Santana the keys, and they barely get the door unlocked before something inside of her seems to snap, and she becomes even _more _hysterical. Jessica's in the kitchen heating something up in the microwave, and she looks at them both like they're crazy.

"What happened?"

Rachel can't answer, and Santana doesn't even bother acknowledging the question. She just pushes Rachel into her bedroom and shoves her down on the bed. Rachel's still crying, and the only thoughts running through her head are of what a terrible person she is and how she's just ruined the best thing in her life. She can't even form words because she's crying too hard. It isn't until she notices that Santana has grabbed her purse and is digging through it that she asks what she's doing.

Santana doesn't answer. She just keeps pulling things out of Rachel's purse and dropping them onto the bed until she finally grabs something and drops the purse instead. "What are you doing?" she asks again.

"Taking your phone," Santana snaps. "Before you do something _really_ fucking stupid."

"Give it back." Rachel finally finds her voice, even though tears are still streaming down her face.

"No fucking way."

"Give me my phone!" She kind of screams that part as she jumps up, and Santana looks at her like she's crazy, shooting back with just as much attitude.

"You are _not _telling him," she says firmly. "Sit your drunk ass down and shut up."

"What the hell happened?" Jessica's back, standing in the doorway and staring at them. Rachel and Santana once again don't even acknowledge her.

"What the fuck do you think telling him is going to do? You wanna kill him or what?"

"Shut up!" Rachel screeches.

"_Nothing _good is gonna happen if you tell him. Don't be an idiot, Rachel."

"Santana..." She's gritting her teeth, and she seriously wonders what it would feel like to punch someone- preferably the girl in front of her.

"You are too drunk to deal with this shit. Sit _down." _Santana's glaring right back at her, but Rachel doesn't care.

"I am going to tell him."

"No, you're not. There's no fucking point, Rachel, you didn't _do _anything!"

"I kissed somebody else!"

If Jessica reacts, neither of them notice. Santana just rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Yeah, and nobody knows that besides me and you, and that's how it's gonna stay. Don't _do _this to him." She almost sounds like she's pleading a little bit. "It'll fucking destroy him. He doesn't need to know!"

"I'm not lying to him."

"Rachel, you do _not _need to tell him this."

"Give me my phone."

"No." Santana takes a step back. "I'm not letting you call him."

And then Rachel just loses it. "Give me my fucking _phone, _Santana!"

She actually shoves Santana back into the wall and then takes advantage of the sudden movement to grab her phone and push her way past Jessica out of the bedroom and across to the bathroom. She hears them both yelling after her, but she slams the door and locks it. She doesn't even realize she's stopped crying until she sees herself in the mirror. She looks like shit, but she feels even worse. She still can't really breathe and she walks in a circle in the tiny space before she finally pulls the lid down on the toilet and sits.

Maybe it's a bad idea. Maybe Santana is right... But no. _No. _She's not going to lie to him. She has to call and tell him and beg him to forgive her. The tears start up again, but this time they're quiet and more controlled. She tries to concentrate on her breathing, but her whole chest hurts.

This just can't be _real._

He picks up on the third ring, and she's kind of surprised to hear it. She thinks her fingers hit send without her permission, but the phone's to her ear, and the second she hears his voice, she breaks all over.

"What's wrong?" He sounds instantly concerned, and it makes her feel worse. She can't answer, she just keeps crying. "Rachel, what happened?"

"I love you." She chokes it out because it's the only thing that makes sense right now.

"Are you okay?" His voice is low, and she knows he's probably scared. She knows it probably sounds like something terrible, her calling him in tears and barely able to speak. "Hey? Where are you?"

"In the bathroom."

"The bathroom where?"

"In my room." She's just mumbling, and she's still crying so hard she can barely breathe.

"Is Santana there?"

"Yes."

"Let me talk to her, okay?" He sounds so gentle and obviously concerned, even scared maybe. She hates herself.

She shakes her head even though she knows he can't see. "Noah..."

"Rachel." She hears him hesitate a second. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I kissed somebody." The words tumble out before she has another second to stop them. They sound like the words to a really terrible joke, but they're not. She hates herself even more when she hears them out loud.

The only sound is herself crying. She's got her eyes squeezed shut like that will somehow make it less true or less painful. She just cries and bites down on the back of her teeth, trying to stop all of it from happening. But it is happening. It is, and there's nothing she can do about it because she already said it.

It seems like ten years pass, and then she can't take it anymore. "Noah..."

"What the..." She hears him drag in a breath, like actually speaking is too much effort. Then he gets a little more forceful and finishes with, "_Fuck."_

"I'm sorry!" she says immediately. "I... I'm sorry. I just... _I'm sorry." _And she cries even harder,.

"Fuck, Rachel. Just... _fuck!" _She can tell he's mad (obviously), but she can hear the rest in his voice, and it kills her.

"I'm sorry!" she repeats, this time even more desperately.

"How could you..." She hears his breath hitch again, and it makes her cringe. "Just... what the fuck, Rachel? How could you fucking _do_ this?"

"_Please..." _She's begging. She doesn't even know for what.

"Please what?" he snaps back, and it makes her squeeze her eyes even more tightly.

"Please don't yell at me..." It sounds weak and pathetic, and she knows she deserves to be yelled at. But she just can't _take _it.

"Why would you..." He seems incapable of forming coherent sentences. "Shit!"

"It was an accident!"

"You don't accidentally fucking _kiss _somebody, Rachel," and he sounds even more furious than he did a second ago.

"I'm _drunk!" _She knows it's not an excuse, but it's all she's got.

"Who was it?" he demands, and she winces at his tone.

"I don't know..."

"Who the fuck was it?"

"Just some guy." She draws in a ragged breath and tries blinking as quickly as she can to slow the tears. "I don't now."

"Just some random fucking guy? You just fucking kissed him on accident?"

"Yes!" It's the truth, and she can tell from the sarcastic bitterness that he doesn't believe her at all.

"You are..." She hears him biting down to cut himself off. She doesn't even want to know how he was going to finish that sentence.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers, and she just needs him to believe her.

"I'm not fucking doing this shit with you, Rachel," and he sounds more hateful than she's ever heard him sound.

"I didn't mean to..."

He doesn't answer her. Once again, the only sound is her own crying, and she hates it. It seems like hours pass. She keeps waiting for him to tell her it's okay, and he just doesn't. Finally, she can't take it anymore.

"Please say something," she begs quietly.

"What the hell am I supposed to say?" he snaps. "You told me not to yell at you. I don't have shit to say to you." He sounds like he _hates _her, and she can't stand it.

"You can yell at me!" she says quickly. "Please! Yell at me!" She knows she sounds desperate, but she doesn't care. "Just please don't hang up," she begs. "Noah, _please."_

"I'm not talking to you."

She hears the click before she even has a chance to beg again.

She can't do this. She's never felt sicker about anything in her entire life. She's shaking, and she really feels like she might pass out. She tries to breathe, but it's too hard. All she can do is sit there and stare at her phone, knowing that if she calls him back, he'll ignore her. She can't stand it.

She's _ruined _it. Ruined _everything._

When she finally leaves the bathroom, Santana's standing on the other side of the door. She still looks pissed, but when Rachel breaks down in sobs again, she just puts both arms around her and hugs her. Then she guides her back to her bedroom and lays down with her. They stay like that, lying together, as Rachel cries and Santana plays with her hair slowly and soothingly. Rachel feels like she's in a daze.

All she can think of is Noah and what he's doing right now. She's hurt him too much, she knows. She doesn't want him to feel what she's feeling, but she knows it's selfish because she's the one who did it.

After everything they've been through and all the bullshit that's been thrown at them, Rachel never thought it would be _herself _that broke them up.

…

A/N: I'm already expecting the hate, so bring it on...


	23. November, Sophomore Year

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter 21**

**NOVEMBER, SOPHOMORE YEAR**

...

The next two weeks are possibly the worst of Rachel's life.

Santana stays an extra three days because Rachel basically can't (_won't) _get out of bed. And two weeks later, she's still having trouble making herself do normal everyday things like getting up, taking a shower, eating... She skips a ton of classes, and when she checks her email, she sees a note from one of her professors telling her that she's missed two quizzes and that unless she scores basically perfect or close to perfect on every remaining assignment, she's likely to fail. Rachel withdraws from that class and doesn't tell her parents. Her vocal coach also leaves her a rather hateful message saying that if she can't be bothered to attend to their sessions that she'll be dropped as a student. It's terrible, and she knows she's being extremely dramatic and childish, but she just doesn't _care. _

She thinks that her therapist would probably be having the time of his life with her right now, but since he's in Ohio, there's not much he can do. She's depressed, possibly for the first _real _time ever in her life, and really, she has no one to talk to. Santana keeps calling her, and sometimes she answers and talks for a few minutes, but mostly she just lets it go to voicemail. Her roommates are all getting sick of her, she can tell, so she tries really hard not to dump anything on them. She doesn't even feel right talking to them about it anyway. They think she's overreacting, but they don't understand. She's not sure anybody really understands.

Noah doesn't talk to her. He just doesn't. When she calls, she either goes straight to voicemail or goes there after one ring. When she texts him, she doesn't hear anything back. She knows he's ignoring her for a reason, but it still hurts. And it still makes her wish that he'd just give her a chance to explain. She's left him what seems like a hundred voicemails, but she has no idea if he's listening to them. If he would just _talk _to her, she might be able to make it okay.

She really can't explain how much she hates herself. And it was all so stupid. She's still not even sure how it happened, definitely doesn't know _why _it happened. She knows it's a terrible, lame excuse, but she was drunk. That's the only thing she's got. She honestly didn't _mean _to. But she doesn't know how she's supposed to explain this or how he's supposed to understand it when he won't even speak to her.

It's the worst thing ever.

She goes to a rehearsal with her group, but she doesn't feel like singing at all. She doesn't feel like doing anything but lying in bed with the covers pulled over her head, but she has no choice. If she doesn't start actually making an effort, she's going to fail. She can't ruin something _else, _so she forces herself up and to the studio where she listens to six different renditions of Broadway classics where each sounds a little bit worse than the last. When it's her own turn, she gets up, sings three bars of her song and then feels tears falling down her face. It takes one more line before she chokes a little bit and can't continue. She sits down without any kind of explanation and ignores the way everyone looks at her like she's some sort of freak or something. She's seen those looks before- she developed an immunity somewhere around her thirteenth birthday.

When she gets back to her dorm later, no one is around. She doesn't know where her roommates are, but she's glad that they're not home. She doesn't feel like socializing, and she's sick of hearing them attempt to engage her in some sort of conversation. She understands what they're doing, but she doesn't need it. She only really needs one thing, and obviously she can't have that.

Because she's apparently some sort of glutton for punishment, she flips her laptop open and logs into Facebook. She's been avoiding it because she's been avoiding pretty much everything. She doesn't want to know about it if all of her friends hate her or if they're leaving her mean messages about what a terrible person she is. There isn't any of that, though. The only messages she has are from people in her lab group, and those are only about supplies.

She knows she shouldn't, but she checks Noah's page just to see if anything's different. It still says in a relationship, and there aren't any new pictures of him making out with random girls in a bar or anything, so at least there's that. She won't even admit it, but she's been driving herself crazy imagining what he might do out of revenge. She knows it's probably mostly in her head, but she can't help it. She's not even sure she could blame him if he _did _do something. She just doesn't _want _him to.

She calls him, even though she knows he won't answer, and prepares to leave what feels like her thousandth apologetic voicemail. She plays with a loose thread on her bedspread as she waits for the rings to end. Her throat feels tight, and she wonders how much longer she's going to have to endure this. She just needs to _talk _to him.

And then, by some miracle apparently, she hears the phone pick up, and he answers. He just doesn't say anything she wants to hear...

"Rachel, leave me alone." He says it slowly but sharply. She hates that it's the first time she's heard his voice in almost two weeks, and he's telling her to leave him alone.

Still, she sees an opening, and she takes it. "Noah, wait," she says quickly. "Please talk to me."

"I don't want to talk to you. If I wanted to talk to you, I would have picked up one of the seven billion other times you called me."

"I need you to listen." She knows she sounds a little bit desperate. She doesn't care.

"Seriously," he says, cutting her off. "Just stop calling me."

"Noah, I didn't _mean _for this to happen! I was drunk... I would never cheat on you. I'm not a cheater, Noah, you _know _that."

"Bullshit." And she's shocked by how swiftly he cuts her off and how hateful his voice immediately turns. "You were cheating when _we_ freaking got together, remember that?"

And it feels like a slap in the face because she doesn't like remembering that at all, and she can't believe he would even bring it up. It's not like he was entirely innocent in the entire thing, and she can't stop herself before she says, "That's not fair."

"Oh, sorry," he snaps sarcastically. "Sorry for stating the goddamn truth."

She hates that it hurts as much as it does. She kind of hates him for even mentioning it, considering the fact that it was a totally different situation and especially considering the fact that he was there the whole time _helping _her cheat. But it also hurts because it's the truth. She's made this mistake before, and she should be mature enough to not make it again... But here she is. She tries to open her mouth to defend herself, but she gets choked on a half sob that sneaks in from nowhere, and the words get lost.

"Shit," he mutters, and she closes her eyes because that's exactly what she feels like. A second passes, and then she hears him sigh. "I'm sorry. I'm... fuck. I shouldn't have said that, but shit. Rachel, seriously, just leave me alone, okay?"

"Just do it," she says miserably. And she feels as helpless as she sounds. "Noah, just break up with me if that's what you're going to do."

She doesn't _want_ him to break up with her. Obviously. But she'd rather know now than have to spend every single day obsessing over it.

She's kind of shocked when he says, "I don't want to break up with you."

"Then why are you _doing _this?" It's barely more than a whisper. "Just _talk _to me."

She can hear him sigh again, and it kills her that she can practically picture it. "I will," he says finally, and he sounds totally normal without any of the edge that his voice had before. "But just give me a little while, okay? And stop calling all the time because I can't do this right now."

She doesn't know what that means. She doesn't understand why he can't just _talk _to her. She misses him so much, and all she wants to do is keep him on the phone because she hasn't talked to him in weeks, hasn't seen him in _months, _and she just _misses _him.

"I'll call you," he promises quietly. "Just give me some time, okay?"

She nods. He can't see her, and she doesn't care. When he hangs up, he doesn't say bye, and he doesn't tell her he loves her. He never hangs up without saying it- she can probably count the number of times since his mom died that he's hung up without it on one hand. She hates that she just added another one to that list.

It kind of hurts even more than before.

She makes it through another week of classes and manages to only skip two. She goes to her vocal sessions and makes up some lie about having a really terrible sinus infection for the past few weeks. She talks to her dads every day because they worry when she doesn't answer. And she calls Santana and tells her that she's fine and that everything's okay.

She does a pretty good job of pretending like everything's normal, but it gets a little bit harder all the time. At least she's making an effort, though. She starts actually _going _to meals, even if she's not quite to the point where she can really eat a full one yet. But her roommates and the rest of their friends seem to think she's doing better, so she tells herself it's the truth. If nothing else, it's a very good acting exercise.

He's waiting for her one day when she comes back from rehearsal.

She almost doesn't see him. He's standing outside her building looking semi-lost and very cold. The temperature's already pretty low, which doesn't bode well for winter. She noticed it herself earlier that day as she was walking to class and mentally kicking herself for only grabbing a light jacket. She does a double-take to make sure she's actually seeing him, but he's there. The last time she saw him, she was begging him not to leave, and now she's not even sure she has it in her to walk up to him. He hasn't seen her yet, and for a split second, she thinks about just sneaking away. She's been dying to talk to him forever, but now that she's got the chance, she feels unprepared and nervous.

He sees her before she has a chance to make a decision one way or the other.

After they've made eye contact, she doesn't really have any other choice but to go over to him. He's staring at her, and he looks hurt and maybe kind of nervous himself. "Hey." It's practically a mumble, and if they were on better terms, she might bitch at him about it.

Instead, she just says, "Hey," and waits for him to do something else.

Nothing happens for a little while. They just kind of look at each other, and it's way more awkward than she thought it would be. Definitely more awkward than she ever _wants _it to be.

"We should talk."

It's kind of obvious. Of course they should talk. They've had one conversation in the course of three weeks, and it certainly wasn't the best conversation they've ever had. She doesn't say any of that. She just nods and moves toward the door. He grabs her elbow and stops her, though.

"Lexi's home," he explains. She just raises her eyebrows. "I saw her when she went up. Can we just go somewhere?"

He doesn't want an audience. Probably because he's either going to yell at her or go back on his word and break up with her. She barely thinks about either of those things. Instead, she just focuses on the fact that her roommate knew he was here and couldn't be bothered to send her a damn text message or something and give her a heads up.

They go to a coffee shop a couple of blocks from her dorm. It's a trendy spot and nearly always crowded. She takes him there on purpose just in case he really _does _want to yell at her. But he doesn't say much at all as they walk, and when she asks him where Bekah is, he just says she's with Finn. He continues the length of silence as they wait in line for their drinks. He pays for them both, and she kind of mutters a thanks that he doesn't acknowledge as they look around for somewhere to sit.

They find a couple of seats close to the window, and Rachel nearly spills her coffee when he grabs her elbow again and stops her from sitting down. She looks at him because she doesn't know what's going on or really what else she should do. And then he just kisses her. Kind of out of nowhere, but she feels her eyes slip shut the way they used to always do back when things were new and she was really just starting to fall for him.

And fifteen seconds later, he's pulling back a little bit and staring at her for a couple of seconds before sitting down with his coffee. She follows him, but she doesn't break his gaze because she wants to know what's going on.

"Don't kiss anyone else," he says lowly, and his eyes are kind of darker than usual. She blinks and then nods slowly. "Ever."

"I didn't mean-"

He cuts her off right in the middle of her defense. "I'm serious, Rachel. _Ever." _And he _sounds _serious. She hears the deeper meaning behind the last word, and she just nods blankly. He's still staring at her really hard, and she sees something in his eyes that both kind of thrills her and terrifies her.

"Noah, I'm sorry..." It comes out as almost a whisper. She's said it a thousand times during the short conversations they've had and the tons of voicemails that she's left. It's just the truth, though. She doesn't know how else to say it.

He looks a little conflicted himself. She knows he's mad at her, and he has a right and a reason to be. But she can tell that he also forgives her and that everything's going to be okay. She can't believe the way the weight seems lifted off her chest. But she still feels terrible. She still knows that she did something terrible and that all the sorries in the world can't really make up for the fact that she _cheated _on him.

"I talked to Santana," he says finally. "She told me about it."

She only latches onto the first part. He can't talk to her and hasn't in weeks, but he can talk to Santana? She tries to focus on the fact that Santana was probably trying to save her and that he just needed to hear it from someone else, but it still bugs her on some level. Because whether she'll admit it or not, Santana and Noah... That's her biggest fear. The absolute _worst _thing she can imagine. She knows their friends, but that knowledge doesn't quell the deeply hidden insecurities she has about them and about their past relationship. She tries to ignore it for the most part, but it's always there on some level, hidden in the back of her mind.

"I know you wouldn't really do that shit." He's still talking, but she doesn't really hear him. She's still focused on the fact that he talked to Santana instead of her. And even more on the fact that Santana didn't bother to tell her. Her roommate not texting her about Noah's sudden appearance is one thing, but Santana is something else entirely. She's often wondered where Santana's _true _loyalty lies, and the question of who would get to "keep" Santana in a break up has crossed her mind more than once. She was on Rachel's side the last time they broke up, but that's just because Noah was being a jerk. If they broke up by mutual choice or over something less dramatic, Rachel really doesn't know which side Santana would choose. She's the closest girlfriend Rachel has, but she's been friends with Noah much longer. And even though they pretend to hate each other, they're essentially the same person. So it's something Rachel's thought about before.

She hates herself for thinking about it now.

"Are you okay?" His question kind of snaps her back to attention, and she blinks at him. "You look half asleep."

"I'm just tired." It's not a lie. She feels exhausted despite the fact that she's spent more time in bed than she has _out _of bed the past few weeks.

"We need to talk, Rachel." He sounds all serious, kind of more adult than he normally does. She just looks at him.

"You said you weren't breaking up with me." She can't stand the way she sounds so quiet and pathetic, but there's not much she can do about it. She almost can't even look him in the eye. She misses a month ago when this wasn't hanging over them.

Really, she misses a year ago before _any _of this happened.

"I'm not." His face kind of scrunches up, and she can tell she's confusing him- probably because she hasn't been listening. "But we need to talk because this shit is fucked up."

"I _swear _it was nothing," and she finally looks him fully in the eye. "I don't even know... But I'm serious, I didn't mean to. Or like... _plan _it."

"Rachel." He kind of lets out a little breath, and she doesn't know what that means. "I know."

"Then why do we have to talk about it?" She wants to just forget it. As far as she's concerned, they can never mention it again for the rest of their lives, and it'll be too soon.

"Not about that." He shakes his head. "About everything else."

She has no idea what he's talking about, and she hasn't even touched her coffee. She hates that this is their big reunion. She can't believe they haven't seen each other since the beginning of September, and they're in a coffee shop _talking. _That's not how they work. They just sit there staring at each other for what seems like ages, and then he rolls his eyes.

"What the fuck are we gonna do?"

"What are you talking about?" She honestly has no idea. She hates this whole conversation, and they haven't even said anything yet.

"I don't know what the hell we're supposed..." He draws in a frustrated breath and then swallows resolutely. "I know you're fucking miserable."

She's still confused. He looks frustrated to the point that his jaw is kind of clenching, and she's clueless. "I'm not miserable," she answers back quietly, and she says it half in fear that he's going to use that as some basis for dumping her. She knows he's already said he won't, but that doesn't mean she fully believes it.

"Yes, you are. Rachel, every time you open your mouth, your voice sounds like you're about to burst into tears."

She _is _about to burst into tears. She doesn't think her tone of voice today is anything important enough to base a judgment about her true feelings, though. Him showing up out of nowhere was more than a little unexpected, so her extra emotions really shouldn't be held against her. Still, it's in her nature to deny.

"I'm not crying," she argues, even though she really, really feels like she might. "I'm okay."

"Not today..." He shakes his head. "Every time I've talked to you for a month, you've sounded like that. Maybe more."

"That's because I don't want to _be _here!"

It's out of her mouth before she can stop herself. Before she even really has time to _admit _it to herself. She hasn't let herself think much about it because dwelling on it really does make her miserable. It's easier to just ignore the feelings and focus on other things. Plus, every time she tries to verbalize it to anyone, she always hears people telling her she's wrong. Because apparently everyone else in the world seems to think they know her feelings better than she knows her own.

Noah is no exception.

"Rachel, you _do _want to be here. You just-"

"No!" she cuts him off sharply. "No, I _don't. _I... I'm failing at _everything. _I'm not good enough to be here, everyone is better than me, and I just want to go _home."_

She hates every single word that just came out of her mouth, but it still feels like a huge weight has been lifted off of her. She's been wanting to say it for a long time now, but no one's been willing to listen. Noah's just looking at her. Like maybe he can't believe she just said something so pathetic. She kind of can't believe it herself, but there it is. When he finally does speak, she wonders if he knows he's making her feel worse.

"They're not better than you." He shakes his head like he has any clue what he's talking about. "You're the most talented person I've ever seen in my _life_... Rachel, they're not better than you."

He sounds so sure of himself. He's being nice to her. It's clear that he even believes what he's saying. Unfortunately, that doesn't make any of it true.

"You don't know," she mumbles. "_Everybody _is talented here... It doesn't matter."

"So you just want to give up just because you finally have a little competition?"

It sounds harsh. She doesn't know if it's meant to sound that way or not, but it makes her wince a little bit because she's not used to him (or anyone really) calling her out with that kind of tone. It makes her a little angry, but she reminds herself that if anyone has an actual _right _to be angry, it's him.

"You don't understand," she says again.

"So _tell _me. Rachel... God, I feel like we never fucking talk."

They talk all the time. Or at least they did until a few weeks ago. She doesn't know what he means right now because if there's one thing this long-distance relationship _doesn't _lack, it's talking.

He must be able to read the confusion on her face because he elaborates. "You don't tell me anything."

"I tell you _everything," _she corrects seriously. And she's still a little mad, so she adds, "If I didn't, none of this would have even happened."

Part of her wants to tell him that his apparent new confidante Santana is the very same person who tried to get Rachel to _lie _about the entire thing and pretend like it never happened. She wonders if he knows that. He should be happy that she values honesty over keeping the peace, which is something that obviously can't be said for Santana.

"You tell me stuff, yeah, but you never tell me what's going on inside your head. I know you're bottling shit up, and I know that's my fault."

She just shakes her head because she's still confused. She doesn't even realize her eyes are watering until a tear leaks out the corner and hits her cheek. It feels really hard to breathe in here, and now she wishes she'd taken him somewhere less trendy and less crowded. She wishes they were alone.

"I tell you everything important." She doesn't care if it sounds like she's grumbling or even if it sounds petulant. She isn't keeping things from him, and she doesn't like the accusation that she is.

"But you _don't," _he argues. She wonders if he notices that neither of them have even touched their drinks. They're probably getting colder and grosser by the second. "And I know it's my fucking fault. I know I've been a total asshole sometimes, especially to you. Especially lately. But..." He just looks frustrated now. "But shit, Rachel, this year has fucked me up.'

She feels a few more tears slip out, and she bites down on her back teeth to stop more from falling. She can't even say anything because her throat feels too tight, and if she opens her mouth at all, she's going to burst into tears. She can't stand the thought of crying here where everyone and their brother can see her.

He must notice that she's on the verge of a breakdown because he grabs both their still full cups and takes them to the garbage can. Then he comes back to the table and gets his jacket from the back of his chair. "Come on," he says quietly.

She goes with him, mostly because she doesn't know what else to do. She feels his hand on her back as he holds the door open for her and guides her through it. The cold air hits them both roughly, and she shivers unconsciously.

"Where are we going?"

"I dunno." He pulls her closer, slipping an arm around her shoulder as they navigate their way through the quickly crowding street. She hates how easy it is to just melt into this kind of touch. Everything about him always feels so good, and she doesn't want to think about how badly she's missed it. All of it.

She knows he's trying to take her someplace more private. Maybe even quieter. But this is New York City, and privacy and quiet don't really exist. Not outside the walls of your own home anyway, and living in a dorm with three other girls doesn't even allow _that. _That's where they end up, though, back at her building. She tries not to think about the potential audience that's upstairs in her room. She just mumbles her way through checking Noah into the dorm and then moves toward the elevator. It's even crowded here, and they have to wait what seems far too long before the elevator finally arrives and they're able to pile on with ten other people.

The room's empty. Everyone must either be at class or elsewhere. Even Lexi's gone, but Rachel doesn't know her schedule well enough to know where she might be. It doesn't matter. She's just glad that there's a little bit of privacy here. They go into her room and shut the door. He doesn't have a bag or anything with him, but he drops his jacket on Mia's bed and then sits down on Rachel's. She feels a little awkward, standing there for a few minutes until she finally unzips her own coat and drapes it over her desk chair.

"Come here." She goes over to him and lets him take her wrist and gently tug her down until she's sitting across from him. She tucks one leg underneath her because it's harder now that they're alone. It's more difficult to resist her initial urge, which is to kiss him and push him down onto his back, and press her hips into his. Because even though this is a very serious situation and should be a very serious conversation, it's still been _months._

She kind of gets the feeling that his head is in the same place as hers because he's staring at her in that intense kind of way only he's ever looked at her. The hand that was previously holding her wrist comes up and pushes some hair away from her face and then rests on her neck. She takes a breath because she realizes she hasn't in several seconds, but she doesn't say anything.

"Fuck."

It's the only thing he says, and it doesn't even sound that out of place because it's pretty much his favorite word. She doesn't know what it means in this context, though, so she just looks at him and waits for him to expand.

"I hate this," he mutters. "I hate all this fucking distance. I hate not being around you. I just... This whole fucking year just _sucks."_

She nods because it's the truth. This year has been terrible. Nothing good has happened, and she's not sure how much more they're supposed to take. The fact that she added to it at all makes her feel a million times worse.

She doesn't have anything of substance to say, so she just quietly adds, "At least it's almost over..."

Noah just looks at her. Then the tiniest little smirk ticks at the corner of his mouth, and he nods. "Yeah..."

There's nothing funny about it. But they both understand that if they can't at least look at the bright side of things, they'll be even more miserable. It only takes a couple of seconds for his half-smile to falter, though, and then he's shaking his head.

"It's been fucking terrible."

She knows he's not talking about one thing in particular. There have been plenty of fucking terrible things happen, so there's really no need to elaborate.

"Noah, I'm sorry all this happened..." She's sort of apologizing for the fact that she kissed someone else, but mostly she's just sorry that _any _of it happened. It really has been the worst year, and even though she sometimes tries to look past it, she's _exhausted. _It's really tiring waking up every single day and just being sad all the time.

There's silence for a little while. He's just staring at her, and she's just watching him watch her. The air is a little bit calmer down. She thinks coming back here helped. But then he stops looking at her and looks down at the bed instead. His eyes stay there for a few seconds, and then he's digging into his pocket.

She stops breathing again when she sees the ring.

He must hear the way her breath catches because he stops and looks at her. She's still staring at his hand, but she can feel his eyes on her. She knows he's trying to read some kind of reaction, but she doesn't have much to give besides complete shock.

"I bought this last night." That's all he says, and he barely even says _that. _She's pretty sure that if every one of her senses wasn't heightened to the fullest possible effect she wouldn't be able to hear him because he's pretty much whispering.

She thinks she's probably supposed to say something, but it's a lost cause.

When he finally speaks again, his voice is still really low, and it's wavering a little bit. She's not sure any of this is actually happening, and she kind of expects to wake up at any given second. But even if she's dreaming, she can still hear him. "I know I'm fucking this up. And doing it wrong." He swallows. "But I..."

"Noah..." She finally manages his name after his own voice breaks off, and when she actually makes eye contact with him, she's not all that surprised to see that he looks terrified.

"We don't have to do it now," he mumbles. "Or even soon... I-I just need this on your finger."

Her initial reaction is that he needs to make a claim or something, probably because she kissed someone else and almost ruined their whole relationship. She shakes her head quickly. "Noah, you don't have... I'm not going to do anything like that again."

He looks a little confused. "That's not it." Maybe he can figure her out too easily. "Rachel... Fuck." He swallows again, and she doesn't think she's ever seen him look so scared in his life. She's a little worried he's going to start shaking or something. She could say something back, but making any kind of noise right now is extremely difficult.

He takes a couple of seconds. His breathing evens out a little bit, and he seems resolved to just get through it. "You've been there for me, Rachel." She watches his face, and she doesn't see even the slightest hint that he's anything but serious. "I don't know how else..." Another drawn in breath. "I don't have a lot of people. But I have you." He blinks, and he looks terrified again. "And I want you forever." His voice goes impossibly quieter. "I just want to know that that'll happen..."

He's asking her to marry him.

He is. Even if he's not saying the words, that's what he wants. She wants to burst into tears, but she knows that's over-dramatic, and she's making a real effort to cut back on some of that. Or at least that's what she keeps telling herself. Her mind is all over the place, and she just stares at him. He's staring back, and she knows he's not going to break eye contact right now for anything. He's watching her, waiting for an answer. She realizes she hasn't given one yet, so she just nods, and then his face relaxes, and he lets out a little breath.

"It'll happen," she whispers. And he gives her a smile he's only ever given to her. She feels the ring on her finger before she registers anything else. She looks down to see him sliding it on, and everything inside of her feels both completely on pause and totally out of control at the same time. There's a diamond ring on her finger, and she's engaged. And really, her head just kind of blanks out on anything past that point.

He's kissing her, kind of desperately and not the kind of kiss she might have imagined would follow a proposal. But this wasn't at all how she imagined a proposal, so maybe it's fitting. She feels a ton of different things in that kiss. Promises mostly. Not that she needs them. She's in real love. She whispers that against his lips, and he kisses her even more tightly. She knows he loves her, and there's no doubt in her head that he's only doing this because he's certain.

He's kissing her neck and down across her throat. Then his forehead drops to her shoulder, and he just kind of hugs her for a couple of seconds before he says, "Your parents are gonna kill me..."

She laughs a little and shakes her head. "I'm almost twenty," she mumbles, her eyes slipping shut because he's kissing her neck again. "They can't do anything about it."

It's weird saying that. It makes her sound so young, but she feels a lot older than nineteen. She doesn't even feel like a teenager anymore, and she can only imagine how the same must be true for Noah, even moreso. He's grown up way too fast in a short amount of time, and she wonders if he even realizes it. She's sure he must feel it, though. His whole life's been flipped upside down and sort of ripped out from underneath him in less than a year. She feels it, but she's sure it must be a million times worse for him.

She starts getting lost in the way he's kissing her. He goes from her lips to her neck then her throat then her face... basically anyone he can get to. His hands are moving, too, under her shirt and down her ribcage. She knows where's heading, and a desperate sort of ache starts gathering inside of her.

"We don't have to do it now," he mumbles again, and she barely comprehends him. It sounds like he's talking to her through a long tunnel because that's how far away his voice seems right now. "But let's don't wait too long... Okay?" His mouth is behind her ear, and all she can do is nod. She's not even really sure what she's confirming, but she just wants to agree with him.

The only thing she really registers is the fact that there are still going to be too many miles between them. That kind of snaps her out of her daze, and she hears herself making another plea. "Take me home with you," she whispers. "Please... I want to go home."

She kind of thinks he won't hear her through his own daze because he's still letting his lips and tongue drag lazily against every inch of skin he can get to. But all of that stills, and he pulls back a little bit and looks at her. "Rach..."

"Please," she says again, a little more urgently. "I don't want us to be apart anymore, it's too hard. I can go to school there, and we can take care of Bekah, and-"

"We'll come here." He cuts her off, and she stops. It's the first time he's ever actually come out and agreed to it. She watches him carefully, and he swallows. "As soon as all the shit's figured out and permanent... We'll come here, I promise." _All the shit _he's referring to involves the custody stuff. It's been almost a year, and there's still nothing set in stone. It's frustrating, but they can't do anything to speed it up. "Just please don't give up, Rachel," his voice is quieter on that part. "You _need _to be here."

"But I-"

He cuts her off by kissing her again, this time moving so that she's lying back and he can actually crawl over her. "You can do it," he whispers, sliding her shirt over her head just before she actually hits the mattress. She's vaguely aware that any of her roommates could come home at any time, but she doesn't care. She's honing in on his words because he certainly knows exactly what to say to her. "You're gonna be a star... All those other bitches, they don't have what you do..." She knows he's probably just trying to sweet-talk her, but she doesn't care because _this_? Is her favorite kind of conversation. Now that there's more skin exposed, he's sliding kisses lower down her body, and the fact that he's unbuttoning her jeans and helping her out of them while he's still fully-dressed doesn't even bother her. "You're so fucking talented... God, I fucking miss hearing you sing..."

He's pressing a kiss to her bellybutton when he says the last part, and it hits something really low in her. She wants to kiss him, so she tugs on his ear a little bit, and he takes the hint. Once he's back over her, she grabs his face with both of her hands and pulls him down to her lips. His eyes are open, and she feels like she can see deeper into them than she ever has before. She can also see the ring on her left hand. It's small and perfect, and she knows he's been driving since early morning just to give it to her. She's never felt what she's feeling right now. It's almost like _nothing _else matters or even exists at the moment, nothing besides just the two of them right here. It's the first time in months that she hasn't been worried about something or someone. It's liberating. And she's so in love.

"Your dads are gonna fucking _kill _me," he whispers again, and she giggles a little bit. It turns into a little gasp when his hand comes between them out of nowhere and finally fucking _touches _her.

"I love you." She doesn't even realize she's talking until she hears her own voice. But it's the truth. God, nothing else has ever been truer than that.

Noah just nods and kisses her again. He doesn't say it back because he doesn't have to. There's been too much talking anyway. He'll be gone again too soon, maybe even tonight. They need to take advantage of every second.

It makes her feel a little bit better knowing that at least now they have a promise for forever, so there will be plenty of time later.

….

A/N: Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter. Thanks for mostly not hating me! To 'chic,' I'd just like to say that if you're that worked up about something like this... you should probably stop reading- you know, sometime _before _you get to twenty-plus chapters... And also grow some balls and log in before you leave idiotic comments so that I can at least reply to them. To everyone else, thanks again!


	24. December, Sophomore Year

**ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE**

**Chapter 22**

**DECEMBER, SOPHOMORE YEAR**

**...**

Her dads don't actually _kill _them, but they aren't exactly impressed.

They mutually decide to keep the engagement a secret until Thanksgiving, and doing so is a lot harder than Rachel imagined. That's less than two weeks of secrecy, but it's really difficult to keep something like that to herself. Her roommates find out, of course, and the people she knows in New York can obviously see the ring on her finger. But she doesn't tell anyone else, and neither does Noah. Or at least he's not _supposed _to, but one day Finn calls her and says congratulations, and she demands to know why Noah gets to tell somebody if she doesn't. Finn then says he knew before she did, and she doesn't know whether to find that cute or infuriating. She should probably just find it _weird._

Either way, she calls Santana later and tells her.

So then there are four of them who know- four in their immediate circle of friends and family anyway. Finn won't tell anyone, and she's pretty sure Santana won't. If she does, she'll tell Brittany who's still in California and doesn't really talk to anyone else. So the chances of it getting back to her parents before she has a chance to tell them herself aren't really all that high. She can _hear _the eye-rolling when she tells Santana, and then she hears a lecture on how Santana will kill her if this "childhood marriage" ends with Rachel being knocked up before she's legally able to drink. Rachel rolls her own eyes and tells her to just be happy for them, and Santana begrudgingly admits that she is. A little. Then she tells her to keep her own last name because Rachel Puckerman sounds like a dental assistant, not a singer.

Noah picks her up from the airport the day before Thanksgiving, and she's kind of more nervous than she ever remembers being. He doesn't look all that thrilled himself, and she wonders if he sees the irony here. Last Thanksgiving, he dumped her. This Thanksgiving, they're announcing an engagement. She wants to ask him, but he kind of looks like he might throw up at any second, so maybe it's not the best time.

He tries to talk her into stopping before they go to her house. He tells her that she hasn't seen the new apartment and that Bekah's been dying to see her and a bunch of other stuff that's meant to delay the process. But she knows better. She knows that it's now or never and that putting off the inevitable isn't going to do much good. Besides, her parents are both home and catching them together is sometimes a difficult enough task in itself. So they go home.

He continues to stall once they actually pull into her driveway. He looks downright terrified now, maybe even more than he was when he actually _asked _her. She's nervous, too, but not as bad off as Noah is obviously. A tiny part of her finds it amusing, but she knows better than to say this. Instead, she just reaches over and slides a hand over his head. She lets her ring scrape against him on purpose. "It's fine," she promises, even if she's actually sort of dreading it. "They knew it was coming, they'll just have to accept it."

Noah looks less than convinced, but he still gets out of the car and goes up the stairs to the house with her. She lets herself in and actually has to call for her parents because no one is waiting to welcome her home like she imagined they might be. Both her dads show up, from opposite ends of the house. They're both dressed for a day off, but she has no doubt in her head that they've both been in their offices doing work anyway. They've never really been good with the whole taking time off concept.

She does her best to hide her ring as she hugs them, and she immediately stuffs her hand into the pocket of her jacket afterward. Noah still looks like he might puke, so she uses her right hand and grabs his to pull him down with her into her favorite armchair.

"Do you guys want lunch?" Her dad has his cell phone out checking the time. "We weren't sure what time you'd get in. We were just about to order, but we can get ready and go out if you want."

"That'd be great." Rachel smiles, and she feels Noah tense beside her. The armchair isn't very big, and she's able to move inconspicuously enough to press her elbow into his ribs. "But we wanted to talk to you first."

Both of her dads immediately freeze and stare at her. She has a feeling that they already know what's coming, and the looks on their faces aren't exactly encouraging. Noah's still completely silent and tense, and she knows it's basically up to her to break the nerves brought on by the three men in the room with her.

So she inhales a little breath, takes her hand out of her pocket, and straightens her ring.

"We're engaged."

"I _told _you!" Rachel's a little shocked that her father's initial outburst is not directed at her but at her other dad instead. He sounds pissed, and they're staring at each other with a mutual look of frustration and maybe anger.

"Rachel, are you pregnant?"

"No!" She's horrified that they would just jump to that accusation, and she doesn't miss the fact that Noah still hasn't said a word and is still paler than he should be.

"I _told _you," her father repeats again, this time lower and more pointedly. "I told you this would happen."

"You could try being happy for us," Rachel snaps defensively. She's pissed because even though she knew they weren't going to be thrilled, she didn't expect them to basically be talking to each other instead of to her. She's also mad that they've been talking about her behind her back and that they apparently think the only logical reason she'd have for getting engaged would be an unplanned pregnancy. Yes, she's dramatic, but damn.

She hears Noah suck in a little breath and sees both of her parents stop and stare at her like she's honestly lost her mind. She should be nervous, but right now she's just kind of mad. And she's too stubborn to let any kind of nerves show. She shouldn't have to be anyway. She's not a child. She's in love, and no one else should have any say in how she chooses to handle that. She has all of this onhand to shoot off if they protest, but her dad just shakes his head.

"Let's go."

No one says a word on the way to the restaurant. She sits with Noah in the back of her dad's car, and the only noise is the low hum of the engine and the occasional pothole. The radio's not even on, so it's especially tortuous. She tries to keep the stubborn attitude because it makes it easier to deal with this whole thing if she feels she has a reason to be defensive and angry on her own.

They get to the restaurant, and they're _still _silent until after the server comes and takes their orders. Rachel crosses her arms and glares at no one in particular. She knows she probably looks like a spoiled little girl, but she doesn't care. She's just announced her _engagement, _and her parents are supposed to be fucking happy for her. They just are. Unconditional love and a bunch of other bullshit she doesn't care about at the moment.

Finally, someone speaks.

"I'm just curious," her father's tone is far too casual, and Rachel hates this question already, "how _you," _he nods at Noah, "working at a restaurant, and _you," _he looks at Rachel, "with _no _job, expect to take care of yourselves _and _support a child."

"I'm not _pregnant," _Rachel hisses, and she doesn't care if it sounds hateful because now she's just pissed.

"He's talking about Bekah," Noah says quietly.

And Rachel feels really stupid when her dad nods and then snidely says, "Yes, I was. But nice to see that you have a good sense of logic still in place."

She feels stupid, yes, but she's too stubborn to let that show. Instead, she goes right back on the defensive. "Why don't you want me to be happy?"

This causes at least two eye rolls. Noah might roll his as well, but she doesn't look over to see. Her dad obviously isn't in the mood for her, though, because he goes right back to speaking down to her. "Rachel, I understand that your dramatics sometimes take on a life of their own, but you know perfectly well that you don't have a leg to stand on with that and that it's, quite frankly, bullshit."

"Honey, of course we want you to be happy." Her other father is much calmer and soothing. He's always been the one most likely to coddle her. "We just want you to be realistic and think about these things. Because your father's right, you really _aren't _in a place financially to do this."

"I can get a job." She hasn't considered this, but she says it without thinking. "We'll be fine. They're moving to New York."

She's not sure that last part is really supposed to be common knowledge, but if they're getting married or plan to get married any time in the near future, no one can really be surprised that they want to be in the same city. Her dad, though, actually laughs.

"Oh, thank god," he says sarcastically. "Because New York City is so much more affordable than Lima."

Logically, Rachel knows he is right. New York isn't cheap by any stretch of the imagination. They _don't _have any money, not really. So yes, it will be difficult. That doesn't mean they can't do it.

She opens her mouth to say just that, but her dad has moved onto Noah now, which can only lead to good things... "And besides the fact that neither of you can _afford _to live in New York City without our help," he starts strongly, "you do realize that you can't just up and move your sister when she is still in state custody, don't you?"

"Yes."

"So what exactly do you plan to do now that you're making plans to get married and move? Where does that leave Bekah?"

"We're not doing it right away." Noah's uncharacteristically quiet. She can't tell if he's still scared or if it's something else. "And I already know all that shit."

Her dad's shaking his head. Almost in disbelief. "You two... You don't _think. _Neither one of you. This isn't just about you. There's a whole other person involved in this."

"I _know _that." Noah's starting to get defensive, which is either a good thing or a bad thing depending on how you look at it. It's a bad thing because his temper gets the best of him pretty easily, and sometimes that ends up in a volatile mess. It's a _good _thing because it's the first time she's really ever heard him stand up to her father, and she won't lie and say it isn't a _little _sexy.

"Then just tell me how you imagine _any _of this is going to work out. You are responsible for your sister now. That is what _you _wanted."

Her dad's trying to prove a point, but it's obviously the wrong point because Noah actually gets mad. "I didn't _want _this! Are you serious?" It's obvious that her dad's a little taken aback by the fact that Noah's actually suddenly being vocal. He actually looks slightly impressed, but Noah's speaking again before he has a chance to comment. He looks frustrated, and shakes his head for a second. "I didn't want any of this to happen, but shit... I'm trying, okay?"

And that seems to break her fathers' resolve a little bit. They both look sympathetic, and the subject changes to the ridiculously cold weather. Rachel goes home with Noah later and sees the new apartment. It's even smaller than she envisioned, and most of their belongings are in storage. But it's nice enough and surprisingly clean. Bekah's on the phone and can hardly be bothered to even say hello, but she puts the call on hold long enough to hug Rachel ask Noah if she can go to the movies later. And the next day, they all sit down to Thanksgiving lunch at Rachel's house, and nobody launches into attacks of any sort.

She goes back to school feeling better than she's felt in a really long time. Her parents stop being so against the idea and seem at least a little more accepting of the engagement. She knows a lot of that has to do with the fact that they already expected it to some degree. She also knows that her father threatened Noah against proposing a year ago when the question was first raised. It doesn't matter, though. They won't disown her or anything. They might not be thrilled with the fact that she's nineteen (_almost twenty_) and engaged, but they both already knew it was inevitable. And they love Noah, they really do. They might have their issues, but they both care about him, and it's not like they didn't know this was going to happen.

It's easier now that she doesn't feel like she's hiding something. She wasn't exactly hiding her engagement in New York before, but now she just feels like she wants to tell everyone. Apparently word starts spreading to her friends from home as well because she receives lots of congratulations, even though she's sure at least half of them are either sarcastic or will be followed up with behind her back gossip. It doesn't matter. She's happy, that's all that matters.

December is somehow warmer than November, and it's just one of the many strange things Rachel notices as she attends her last few classes of the semester. She starts studying every single night, knowing she's got a lot to make up for in a very short amount of time. She's not actually willing to fail her classes. Not only would her parents _actually _kill her for that, but she would be extremely disappointed in herself as well. She's never had any problems in school, and she doesn't really have an excuse to start now. Besides, she can't exactly lecture Bekah on trying harder in school if she's pulling Ds and Fs herself. So she studies.

A lot.

She also sets up a meeting with her adviser and talks to him about her chances in the department. She's never actually _had _Dr. Miller as a professor, but he was one of the judges at her audition, and he regularly attends the mini-showcases. She's only talked to him a handful of times, but she feels strangely comfortable in her office.

When he asks her what she scheduled this meeting for, she tells the truth. "I'm not sure I'm cut out for this program."

"You wouldn't have gotten _into _this program if you weren't talented."

Rachel shifts a little in her seat. "I know I'm talented." It's conceited, she's well-aware, but modesty has never really been her strong suit. "I've known that my entire life."

If Dr. Miller is off-put by her forwardness, he doesn't show it. She thinks that must mean he deals with people like her a lot- another reason, of course, why she's even here. "Then what is the problem?"

"I'm from a very small town, and I was raised by two men in a same sex relationship. Needless to say, my life was not free of insult and injury." Dr. Miller remains unaffected, so she continues. "My fathers always pushed me to pursue artistic avenues because I excelled in them, and giving me somewhere to focus my attention left me less vulnerable to the negative reactions that my family sometimes garnered throughout my childhood."

In the back of her head, she hears a voice that sounds distinctly like Santana telling her to _talk like a normal fucking person. _She ignores it because she's speaking a man in a high position of authority who deserves respect. Besides, it feels sort of nice to hear what sounds like her old self peeking through. It's been awhile.

"I have always been leaps and bounds ahead of my peers musically. I have perfect pitch, and I began winning singing competitions before my first birthday. My talent is not what is in question here."

Dr. Miller appears slightly amused. Still, he clasps his fingers together and studies her. "Then what _is _in question, Miss Berry? If you are comfortable with your level of talent, then what exactly has got you questioning your place in this program?"

It's hard to say out loud. It was difficult enough confessing to _Noah_, but the prospect of telling a virtual stranger has her throat constricting. "I'm not sure if my talent is anything _special _here," she finally admits. "I'm used to being the powerhouse, and here, I just feel... average." It almost _hurts _to say that out loud.

Dr. Miller, though, doesn't seem to care either way. He just raises his eyebrows and shakes his head slowly. "You've been here for more than a year. Are you just coming to this realization?"

"I feel differently than I did a year ago. A year ago, I was still blind to other people's talent."

"Well, perhaps what you're experiencing is simply a reality check, not necessarily a sign that you don't deserve to be here."

It's not that she doesn't think she _deserves _to be there. Obviously she knows he's right- she wouldn't have even gotten into the program if she wasn't talented. What she's questioning is whether there's a _point _to her being here. Just because she's talented doesn't mean anything will come from it. She's not stupid. There are hundreds of people in her program who are talented, but there are not hundreds of starring roles on Broadway just waiting to be filled by the latest round of NYU graduates. She's already had her reality check- ninety percent of them are going to end up working entry-level jobs in offices because their musical theatre degrees are going to be useless.

"Do you feel differently than you did a year ago, Miss Berry?" Dr. Miller takes off his glasses and levels her with a serious look. "Not necessarily in regards to your talent, but moreso about your life in general?"

This sounds like the beginning of a counseling session. Not really a therapy session because her therapist would never ask such straight-forward questions- he's much more in the business of letting _her _do the talking. No, she's sort of having flashbacks to being in Ms. Pillsbury's office. She was never the most effective guidance counselor, but she was at least sympathetic and willing to listen.

"A lot has changed in my life over the past year," Rachel finally supplies. She's not sure this is a relevant conversation, but she still goes with it. "Obviously I feel different."

"What has changed? If you don't mind me asking."

She does, actually, but she tells him anyway. "My boyfriend's mother died unexpectedly. He had to leave school to take care of his little sister. I've spent a lot of time focusing on them and less time focusing on my education. My grades reflect this."

"You feel a responsibility toward them? More than you feel toward your education and career?"

This is _seriously _turning into a borderline counseling session. Rachel might feel uneasy if she weren't so used to these things. As it is, she feels strangely comfortable and at ease.

"They're my _family," _she answers back without hesitation. "Of course I feel responsibility toward them. I love them."

"Then perhaps you should focus your attention on _why _you feel that your responsibility toward them is more important than your responsibility toward your own future." Rachel opens her mouth to respond, but Dr. Miller cuts her off. "Maybe it's not just your confidence in your talent that's changed, maybe you are an entirely different person."

It's true, of course. Rachel knows it's true. She _is _a different person than she was even just a year ago. She's older and more mature and not nearly as idealistic. She's had far too much reality in much too short a time to still live in the fantasy world she spent her whole life constructing and perfecting. Part of her misses it.

"You may have heard the saying that the road to stardom is lonely or that it's lonely at the top... but it doesn't have to be." She wonders if Dr. Miller knows that he's practically prolific. "You _are _talented," he assures her. "You owe it to yourself to remember that."

Rachel wakes up the next Tuesday and immediately feels sick to her stomach.

It should just be a normal day, but it's not. A year ago today, she woke up to the worst news of her life. It's hard not to remember that the second she opens her eyes. It's still mostly dark in her room, which is far too reminiscent of the same morning a year ago, but her phone isn't ringing and there's no indication that anything tragic and life-changing has taken place during the night. Still, she glances at the clock and sees that it's 6:43, and she wonders if it's too early to call.

She waits until 7:30. She knows they'll be up because Bekah has to be at school by 8:15. She's not sure if Noah has to work today, but she knows he'll be up to drive his sister at least. So she's a little surprised when he still sounds half-asleep.

It turns out, Bekah's not going to school today. She apparently informed him last night of her plans, and he didn't bother fighting her on it. Rachel's not sure how healthy that is, but she doesn't say anything. She figures if Bekah needs a day off, then maybe she should have it. If it's going to help, then she should be allowed to stay home. Really, Rachel just hopes the entire thing doesn't backfire. She hopes that the day off from school is more therapeutic and less of simply a way for Bekah to dwell on the situation and find herself even more depressed than she would be otherwise.

She tells Noah to go back to bed and that she'll call him later, but he stops her.

"No, talk to me," he mumbles quietly, and she knows his face is mostly in his pillow.

She asks him what he wants to talk about and tries to keep her voice quiet enough to not wake up her roommate. He just mumbles a little bit, and she can tell he's already halfway back to asleep.

"I don't care," he finally manages a coherent sentence. "I just like your voice."

Later that day, he leaves her a Facebook message that says _I love you, and I can't wait to wake up beside you. _He rarely says things that sappy, and he _never _says them in public. Since Facebook is about as public as it's possible to get, she can really only assume he's drunk. That fact doesn't really bother her that much. Santana's the only one who comments, and it's only to say that they owe her money for a new Macbook because hers now has vomit in the keyboard.

Rachel calls him, gets his voicemail, and leaves a two minute long message full of whispered things she won't really remember after she hangs up.

She does pretty well on her finals- at least as far as she can tell.

She doesn't really think she bombs anything, and she's willing to bet that she actually aces quite a few of her tests. She also manages to pull together a very good performance of "The Light in the Piazza" for her last workshop. Her professor says she is "very impressed" and gives her some constructive criticism about a few places in the song. She knows she's showing personal growth because she actually listens and takes notes. No more wasting her time here. If she's sticking around, she plans to get everything out of these years that she can.

She gets drunk on red wine her first night back in Lima and ends up falling asleep with her head on the coffee table while a rerun of _Grey's Anatomy _plays on Lifetime.

She gets back mid-afternoon, spends most of the evening with her parents, and then uses the extra key Noah gave her last month to let herself into the apartment. He's at work, and Bekah's at a friend's, so she grabs a bottle of wine out of the cabinet (and really, she's not sure _why _there's wine in the house because Noah hates it), and she drinks four glasses.

That's the last thing she remembers until she's wakes up because she's literally being carried to bed.

"Couldn't wait for me?" Maybe he doesn't hate it _that _much because he takes a long pull straight from the bottle.

"What time is it?" She's drunk and fuzzy, and she can't do much of anything but force her eyes open.

"Late. Like 1:30." He sits the wine down on his dresser and then _carefully _drops her onto the bed.

"You're just getting home?"

She sees him shrug as he starts tugging at his tie and the rest of his work clothes. "Christmas parties," he says simply.

"I'm drunk."

"I can tell." He smiles at her and then falls down beside her and kisses her quickly.

"You're warm." She just mumbles the word and rolls into him so that she can press her face into his bare chest. She's still fully clothed, and part of her thinks she should probably go ahead and take care of that because she's about to fall back asleep, but the other part is too tired to care that much.

When she wakes up, it's light outside, and her clothes are mysteriously absent. She's still got her panties on and her undershirt, so she probably didn't wake up for random middle of the night sex. She was probably just helped out of her sweater and jeans because she was too hot and/or uncomfortable. Noah's nowhere to be seen, and when she looks around for the time, she sees that it's almost noon.

She's not used to this little one bathroom apartment, but she manages a shower and clean clothes anyway, and when she finally makes it into the kitchen, she's not surprised to see a pizza box for lunch and two Puckermans who look less than thrilled to even be awake on a Saturday.

"Finally decide to wake up?" Noah's got a mouthful of pepperoni, and Bekah's too busy texting to do much of anything besides glance up.

"I was tired." Rachel ignores them after that and starts digging through the cabinets for something that _she _can eat. The closest thing she finds is oatmeal so she dumps some water into a pot and sets it on the stove to boil. She really shouldn't have had that much wine the night before because her head is starting to pay for it.

Noah leans back in his chair and grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge. He tosses it to her without ever standing up. She's sort of impressed that he's capable of that much laziness.

"So guess what," Bekah breaks into her own conversation and looks up at both of them. Neither of them have anything to guess, so she just tells them. "Hannah Belkin is getting a limo for her birthday, and they're renting out a whole restaurant for her party."

Rachel has no idea who Hannah Belkin is, and obviously she's not alone because Noah just says, "So?"

Bekah rolls her eyes and looks kind of pissed off. "I've never had a whole restaurant for _my _birthday."

"Yeah, and you never will. So you might wanna hang that one up."

"I'm just _saying," _Bekah snaps back, grabbing another slice of pizza. "It's cool. That's all."

"Well, maybe she'll invite you and you can live vicariously through."

Bekah looks confused. "Live _what?"_

Rachel's mostly impressed that Noah knows a word like vicariously and can use it in context. He must notice because he shoots her a little smirk and then turns his attention back to his sister. Rachel stirs some oats into the water and just shakes her head as she listens to them bicker. She realizes that this is her life now. This is what her life will _be _for the next several years. She doesn't think she hates it.

In fact, she's pretty sure she could learn to love it.

They made it through the worst year, so she's fairly confident they can make it through the rest.

…

…

...

A/N: Annnnnd that's the end. Thanks to everyone who has stuck through this story and through the one before it. I think a threequel should be in the works...


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